Serendipity
by More Than I Appear
Summary: Post-ROTF. Snatched from his warm bed, dumped on a deserted stretch of road in the middle of the night, hit by a car, kidnapped by a Decepticon, and presumed dead by the ones he loved. Things can't possibly get any worse for Sam, right? Right...?
1. Chapter 1

Fair warning: I am new to the genre of Transformer's Fanfiction and this is a first attempt. Also, I have no idea where I'm going with the plot. Why, then, am I posting this odd little story? Because I am an author who has lost her muse and I find that one of the best ways to drag her ass back is to lay out bait, i.e. write a new story. At the time of this posting, anything and everything from every possible corner of the Transformer's plot cliché universe is up for grabs so I make no promises as to what ground this story may cover. That means that this may become a crack fic at any time so please no complaining later.

The Transformers franchise and all its characters is licensed and owned by Hasbro. I own nothing so please don't sue me.

Post-ROTF

* * *

Serendipity

_Life can be very funny._

"Yes, yes, very funny! Kidnap a guy from his dorm in the middle of the night and drop his ass in a forest in the middle of nowhere. Hey, idiots, you start hazing freshmen at the beginning of school not at the end of the semester!"

_In fact, it can be downright hilarious._

"Aw c'mon guys! This isn't funny!"

_The joke on everyone, however, is that there is no cosmic connection, no grand plan._

"Leo, Goddamn it! I know you're behind this and laughing your ass off but fun time's over!"

_It's all a series of accidents, am ongoing chain of singular events… _

"Ha! Fuck you, Leo! I've found the road- going back to campus asshole!"

…_A crossroads of independent activities that just happened to run into each other at a particular point in time._

"I'm setting fire to your stuff when I get there!"

_Everything that happens is simply a random sequence of events from birth to death._

"And requesting a room change! Fuck you and your F.T.J. crap!"

_For good or bad, there is no universal plan and, because of this, one could argue that Life is not only funny but also a bit sad, too._

"Joke's over idiots! Pick me up before I get frostbite!"

_So maybe it's not too surprising that certain random events happen a tad more often than others for some people…_

"Hello?"

…_Because who wants to muddle through all that sadness and humor alone? _

_

* * *

  
_

Sinking as far as he could into the minimal fabric, Sam shivered violently, grateful that he had decided tonight to wear to bed the pajamas Mikaela had sent him. Over one of their web chats, he'd complained bitterly about the cold on the East Coast and the approaching snow season while his girlfriend, bathed in the warm beautiful California sunshine, had called him a drama queen. He'd felt rather offended at her lack of understanding until the package containing the soft, heavy fabric set arrived.

_God, where did they dump me?_ Proceeding carefully, using his toes to feel the asphalt that was so cold it burned prior to each step and check for sharp surprises, Sam watched his breath fog as he continued down the road, praying to God and Primus that he was heading in the correct direction since his navigational skills were nil.

"L-Leo's a dead m-man." Now that the outraged rush of hot anger was rapidly diminishing, Sam was really beginning to feel the cold spreading through his thin frame. The teenager's jaw ached as his teeth chattered, his lungs burning as he forced himself to take another breath of the air. His muscles felt as if they were locking into place and the unrelieved darkness all around him was adding to his growing sense of disorientation. "I-if B-b-bummmblllebee gets back before I do, he's g-g-gonnnnnnnah…"

Leo would be paste, let's just put it that way.

Though the temperature was perfect for snow, the ground was covered only by a layer of frost that crunched painfully under foot. Sam wrapped his hands around his chest and forced himself to keep breathing even if he did feel as if he was inhaling fire instead of normal air. He tried to ignore the reflexive urge to cough as his lungs protested but ultimately gave in, listening to the deep barking sound with not a little bit of worry. He cursed Leo again and again, promising the other all sorts of horrible punishments since, because of this stunt, it was now possible that even once Sam was again safe and warm, he may still have to suffer through finals sick.

The wind whipped up right then and tore a gasp from his throat as it pierced through his minimal clothing and take what minimal warmth he felt, leaving behind an aching cold that seemed to settle deep in his bones. His strength vanished and Sam suddenly found himself on his knees, shivering desperately as he pitched himself to the side as a truck came careening around a bend in the road behind him. The grass he lay on stabbing into him like blades, Sam stared up at the sky and the stars twinkling down at him, absently tracking the clear brilliant path of a shooting star as it careened through the darkness above his head. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished in a flash of pale blue and part of him was simultaneously both disappointed and relieved that another Cybertronian would not be joining the factions here on Earth.

Sam shivered, and this time the movement was so violent and painful he wondered if he had had a seizure. It was so, so_,_ _cold_!

_I survived Mission City, destroyed an ancient alien artifact, destroyed a homicidal robot bent on world domination with said artifact, survived being chased by little minirobots, went completely nuts, got branded a terrorist worldwide, found new ancient alien artifact, got killed in the middle of an Egyptian desert, had a meeting of the minds in a powwow of the morons responsible for the new battle, revived the only hope for saving the world from the return of the aforementioned evil Robot of Doom __and__ his scary as fuck leader, and survived the first semester of college. I am __**SO **__going to haunt Leo if I freeze to death or get killed by some whacked-out serial killer driving around._

After checking both ways to make sure nothing else was coming, Sam crawled back onto the road, stood and began jogging, occasionally flexing his hands to keep some sort of sensation in them. He was not much of an athlete by any account of the imagination but, after meeting the Decepticons, Sam had learned that being small and fast were his greatest assets and so he had worked to develop it as much as he could. Megatron and his cronies were still out there and still _really_ pissed with him and that knowledge alone helped spur him out of his warm comfy bed each morning to do a miserable lap around the campus as Bumblebee silently followed behind like a comforting, if eye-catching, shadow.

An hour of tripping and falling later, Sam finally stumbled to a stop and collapsed to his knees, doubling over in a coughing fit that sounded much too wet for Sam's comfort. He clutched at his chest with hands that wouldn't work, as if that would help dull the ache of his burning lungs, and tried to get his numb feet under him again. He had to keep warm and to do that he had to keep moving. The thought kept bouncing around his brain though the reason behind it wasn't as immediately forthcoming and neither was the reason why he was out there in the first place. His concentration kept wandering, prompting him to slow down, and each time he stopped made it harder to move because he was tired… And the asphalt wasn't as hard as he first thought… Couldn't he just have a minute to take a small break?

_Danger…_ The concept came sharp and bright, cutting momentarily like a blade through his otherwise muzzy and slow thoughts, most of which centered around the idea of sleep. Why sleeping was suddenly a bad thing he didn't know but part of him was urging him to get up… Oh, hey… when had he fallen? And did he really have to stand, really? Couldn't he just lay here…

_Danger!_ This time a foreign sound reached his ears, an odd but very loud _crack!_ followed by other, muted sounds, and a very primal part of Sam took over because it recognized the noises of trees snapping like twigs as large metal frames walked by, the stimulus forever associated with one of the worst moments of his life and a sorrow so deep he felt it he could drown in it. Sam was on his feet before he consciously realized it, his feet shuffling with painful slowness, but he was determined and each step meant he was closer to safety.

Unfortunately, even his longest stride wouldn't have been able to compete with the smallest step of the metal form that emerged from the tree line near the road and Sam instinctively froze in place, the insane thought that if he didn't move it wouldn't see him gripping him. He knew it was stupid, suicidally so, but he began breathing shallowly anyway, praying the Cybertronian would find him uninteresting and leave.

With a movement that could have almost been deemed delicate, a clawed metal foot set down on the road about a yard ahead of Sam, effectively cutting off his escape route and evoking a small whimper from the human as his heart tried to claw its way from his chest. His harsh breathing loud in his hears, Sam began backing up slowly in retreat until he heard the distinctive soft whisper of gears and servos working again and knew that the mech had placed a barrier behind him as well. Sam began inching to his left, into the middle of the road but putting distance between his body and the mech, all the while trying to project uninteresting thoughts as he looked straight ahead, waiting to see what the mech would do.

It warbled something at him and, reflexively, Sam looked at the speaker as he'd been conditioned to do, mentally cursing himself. If he could have felt his face, he would have been able to feel himself pale as his eyes met crimson red. That was all he could see of the mech as far as features were concerned- between the night itself and the Decepticon's own dark paint, Sam couldn't even gauge its shape.

"S-s-sorrrry. I-I-I d-donnn'tt sssssssspeak-k Cybberrrrtronnnian." The teenager felt himself shiver again, another massive full body movement that disrupted his minimal balancing skills and left him on his ass. He curled around his bent knees, conserving warmth and wishing desperately that Bumblebee was with him but Sam quickly halted that wish as memories of Optimus' death washed over him. He didn't want a repeat of that awful even, not with Bumblebee or anyone else for that matter and if there was another Decepticon here on Earth hell bent on killing Autobots, then Sam wasn't going to help them do it…

Dimly, he heard the whir of gears shifting and then warm air was rushing over him, so warm that that to his cold skin it felt _scalding_, but even so he felt himself shifting from his curled position, moving toward it because warmth meant safety. He knew his hands were scraping across the pavement, could see the bloody furrows forming on his knuckles, but Sam could feel none of it as he fought to reach the source before he grew too tired to do so, instinct driving him even as common sense screamed that it was a trap.

During his slow awkward trek, he was aware of someone talking to him and, though he could hear the words, they weren't making sense. It was English but it may as well have been a Arabic for all the sense his brain could make of it and then it was all being drowned out by the sounds of delicate machinery moving and the roar of an engine and… squealing tires?

_Car…_ Recognition flared just as something slammed into him from the side and he was flying before the pain of the initial impact even registered, hitting and tumbling across the pavement until he finally came to a stop, unable to move as the car whipped past and disappeared into the night.

_Didn't even stop…_ Sam's mind seemed to seize on that fact with painful clarity, impotent fury and outrage welling up inside him as blood pooled underneath him, his lungs and heart laboring loudly. _He hit me and didn't even stop! Bastard! He didn't…even… _

He was so _tired_…

He felt large fingers ghost over him, the familiar sound of the mechanisms moving vaguely comforting as Sam struggled to stay awake. It reminded him of his absent guardian, especially when he was suddenly picked up, his whimpered cries met with reassuring clicking as he was placed against a metal surface.

Small bolts of blue energy beginning to arch over its form, the mech looked down at him and said, clearly and in English, "Safe."

Lightheaded, Sam didn't feel very safe, especially with those red eyes staring down at him so intently but he could only gurgle feebly in response as the blue haze the mech was generating wiped out his vision. A _crack!_ rent the air, loud enough to put the worst thunderstorm to shame, and then the teenager's body was being pushed, pulled, turned inside out, twisted and wrung out like some fleshy towel all at the same time, the moment stretching out into an eternity of pain until another _crack! _stopped the awful sensations.

Sam barely had enough time to be wonder at the bright sunshine blinding him before he passed out.

* * *

"I swear to everything that's holy," Leo rushed to explain, his hands out in front of him as if to ward off a blow from the semi parked in front of him. "I had nothing to do with it! I was on a date- with a girl, a really pretty..." He pointed accusingly at a pair of women walking across the grass nearby, one of which had been waving at him. "Her! I went out with her! And I stayed in her room! And when I came back to the dorm, Sam was already gone and- I swear to God- I thought he was in class until 'Bee texted me!"

To anyone sane, it looked as if the teenager were arguing with a truck. A very big eighteen wheeler, but a truck none the less, and thus was the start of Leo's future college reputation that he was completely off his rocker.

"Have, have you found him yet?" Leo asked quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets before hastily pulling them out and hiding them behind his back. To hide the action he began toeing the ground with his sneaker, biting his lip.

"No," Optimus reported in a tone that sounded to Leo as if the Autobot leader was feeling not just a little bit put out by the whole situation. "Bumblebee is searching the location you provided but has had no luck in locating Sam. Thank you for finding this information but, I must ask, is the method you used to obtain it have anything to do with the injuries of your hands or the marks on your face?"

Giving up the pretense, Leo sighed and took a good look at his hands, flexing them and watching the scrapes on his knuckles bleed. He had nearly pissed himself when Bumblebee called but Leo had been on a rampage since, hunting down those responsible and knocking the snot out of them until he got they confessed to the prank and gave him the details. If neither the jokers' back up nor Optimus had arrived, Leo would still be giving them hell.

"Sam's my man," Leo mumbled, looking at the ground as he blushed. "He's got enough on his plate with, ya know, you guys and, like, the shit he still gets 'cause of what went down in Egypt… Whatever 'normal' was, it isn't any more so, like, I wanna let him settle in, give him space to decompress and find what's his new 'normal'…"

He realized that he was rambling and decided that shutting up would be a good idea, especially since Optimus wasn't saying anything.

"Samuel has been experiencing difficulties since then?" The truck asked.

"Huh? Uh, yah." Leo said, a bit surprised. "I mean, he's been pouring himself into his studies but it's tough to concentrate or even kick back when everywhere you go you get stared at and no one will go near you within ten feet, including the faculty. You should see how fast people scramble away once he selects a seat in class… Anyway, 'Bee, Mikaela and I have got his back so it's all good." The teenager patted the truck grill affectionately.

"I was…unaware that he had been having problems." Optimus said, sounding concerned. "And this has been going on since he returned?"

"Yeah well," Leo idly scratched the back of his head and edged away slightly from the Autobot leader. "His pic got flashed world wide as a terrorist by an alien psycho. Before that the fucking Terminator came after him here at school, destroyed a library and killed a few students. That kind of rep doesn't just vanish and, now that I think about it, I'm surprised there hasn't been a law firm envelope mixed in with all the hate mail he gets."

There was a hiss of air breaks and the sudden, angry sound startled Leo. "…Hate mail?"

"Uh huh. After the third week, we stopped reading it and just stuck it in a trash bag to shred and burn later once final are over. Make a party out of it and roast hot dogs or something. So much for the 'college experience,' eh? Hey, do you guys have anything like college? Guess not when you can just download everything… So, um, any news on Sam?"

The truck twitched. There was just no other way to describe the sudden back and forth movement of the eighteen wheeler's antenna. "Bumblebee has found a patch of dried blood on the road you specified. He confirms that it is Sam's."

"Blood?" Leo squeaked, feeling himself pale considerably. Optimus' breaks hissed again and then the truck was carefully reversing out of the narrow parking lot in the direction that would lead the semi to the swath of forest south of the campus. "Wait, is he okay? Should I come with?"

"Please remain at the college and call us should he come back to the dorm." The Autobot requested, maneuvering the last few tight corners before rumbling into the distance and leaving Leo to stew in his own anxiety.

* * *

Reviews and ideas are welcome. Flames are not.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow this story is going over much better than I anticipated… Thank you everyone for reading a cookies for those of you who reviewed!

* * *

Serendipity Chapter 2

The feel of large fingers petting him eventually made it through the fog of pain, confusion and dizziness clouding his mind, bringing him a mild sense of comfort as he fought to breathe, the beating of his heart so loud in his ears that it drowned out everything else.

Knee weakening relief flooded through him. He'd been found! He'd known 'Bee would find him, rescue him- save him- but it was still immensely reassuring to feel the warmth radiating off the metal touching him, to hear the familiar calming murmur of a Cybertronian's inner workings under his ear as he felt the thick fog in his head rolling back in, making thinking difficult. He wasn't too worried though- 'Bee was here and that meant help was on the way so Sam could just doze until Ratchet showed up and, inevitably, began badgering him about the dangers of sitting in the road.

Sam thought that he may have mumbled something- something about breathing and water- but the rush-rush of blood pounding in his ears and the strange thin, wheezing sounds he couldn't place prevented him from hearing an answer if he received one as awareness again slipped away.

* * *

The standard _crack!_ that announced Skywarp's entrance to the base was oddly muffled in the thinly pressurized interior atmosphere of the Decepticon Mars base. A quick proximity check indicated that his arrival had gone unnoticed by the base's meager occupancy with the exception of his trine-mate Starscream, who seemed to be in the middle of a breakdown if the waves of frustrated anger and spark deep sorrow that flowed through the bond were any indication.

Apparently, the other Seeker was still having difficulties successfully caring for their dwindling number of hatchlings and Skywarp spared a moment to send as many positive thoughts as he could back to the other, hoping to reassure Starscream enough to sustain and bolster the jet until the teleporter's task was done. He would have to go comfort Starscream shortly but first Skywarp had a project to set up, preferably without his wing-mate's knowledge or interference.

Hefting the items he carried, making his way through the warren that made up the corridor system, Skywarp reached what had long ago been the prototype protoform laboratory. Due to the substantial resource demands of the hatchlings currently developing in the hatchery, the unused lab had been shut down but everything including the machinery in the room was still perfectly intact and had thus far escaped any cannibalization unlike other sections of the old base.

Rows of miscellaneous parts lined the walls, all of varying sizes and materials, as did blocks of different alloys, packages of wiring, circuitry and a multitude of other parts, all still vacuum sealed against dust. The workbenches against the walls underneath the parts displayed had been carefully covered in a flexible static reducing cloth, as if whoever had been in charge of the lab before its closure had known that it would not see use for a very long time once the doors shut. Skywarp sent a silent word of gratitude for the forethought and, after quickly cycling his optics to their lowest sensitivity setting to compensate for the dim lighting, headed for the back of the large room into the small scale incubation area where the protoform pods were kept, lights flickering on as he proceeded.

Everything in here had been covered as well and Skywarp's optics scanned over the row of empty pods, deciding on the one tucked away in a corner furthest from the doorway. The Seeker walked over and pulled the sheathing off the pod, examining it critically for structural defects, surprised that the whole device appeared small enough to fit in the palm of the jet's hand and marveling over the realization that Sam would fit with room to spare. Reaching the pod's control panel, the Seeker hit the power and began running a diagnostic check, waiting with impatience for the ready light display to glow green. Once the initial system check and line flushing were finished, Skywarp had the mechanisms complete a test run while he began setting down items near the inlet tubing faucets that jutted from the wall beside the pod, an algorithm in the in the corner of his visual display chugging away at the necessary amounts and verifying the answers against the medical information he had stolen.

He would only get one shot at this after all.

After a cycle, the indicator lights flickered into being and Skywarp began inspecting the thick membrane that made up the majority of the filled pod's casing, checking for leaks and weak spots, for anything that would indicate failure. Everything held, though, all readouts confirming that the pod was running normally and ready for an undeveloped protoform to be placed inside the solution for incubation. When he was finally satisfied, Skywarp hit the abort command, red optics studying the blue tinged fluid as it was flushed away through a valve at the bottom of the small chamber. Once the purge was successful and the pod sanitized, the Seeker began making adjustments, attaching the intake tubing access to the valves on the containers he'd stolen from Earth sitting on the floor. After a last check that everything was secure, he sent a signal to the control panel to wirelessly recalibrate the machinery according to the needed specifications.

When the pod was half filled with the new mixture of chemicals, Skywarp activated the security force fields that quartered the lab's multiple rooms into smaller sections- never knew when an experiment may turn psychotic- and signaled the space around he and the pod to pressurize in a mimicry of Earth's atmosphere. Only once he had verified with his own sensors that the air around him was suitable did he open the cockpit of his new alt-mode and carefully remove the limp form curled inside the small space.

'Pure dumb luck.' Skywarp was rapidly becoming very fond of that human saying since it seemed an apt description of his entire experience of the Sol system thus far. He had arrived on Mars to support his trine-mate's attempts of caring for the hatchlings but Starscream, enraged from recent events, had instead ordered him to Earth to hunt down what he perceived as the cause of the current state of the Decepticon Army. The logic of the argument had escaped the teleporter but the desire to help and make the other happy had over-ridden any protest to the vindictive order and thus Skywarp had immediately departed to his new destination, intent on terminating the flesh-creature known as Sam Witwicky, destroyer of both the Allspark and Megatron.

Considering how easily humans could be damaged, the last seemed a bit far-fetched even to Skywarp, but Starscream's insistence that the human had to die had just fueled the Seeker's curiosity as he made his approach to the blue planet. Who was this 'Sam' and what powers did he possess to be able to do the things that Starscream claimed, to accomplish the one task his trine-mate had been unable to do since the war began? Skywarp wanted to know and so he decided to question the squishy thoroughly before killing him as Starscream demanded.

A Seeker's eyes were second only behind a medic's and that was merely due to each model's respective function. Both had to be able to scan for minute details in nanokliks over the distances separating them from their targets but, while a medic had the advantage of doing their work up close, a Seeker had to perform the same task from considerably further away since, due to their frames being built more for speed and agility, their lighter armor was a liability in combat. As such, one of the safest and most efficient ways for flight models to get the most information about an unknown planet populated by hostiles was to constantly scan large quantities of land from a high altitude.

From his position just inside Earth's orbit, Skywarp had begun scanning the landmasses below him, part of his processor sorting through the humans he saw and comparing it to the image of his target as he mapped and cataloged the features of the environment below. He remembered thinking that finding this 'Sam' would be considerably easier if more humans were looking up as he passed far overhead instead of looking down or straight ahead as most were doing… And then, as he made his entrance into the atmosphere, Skywarp passed over the eastern seaboard of the continent of North America where, at that exact nanoklik, his target had just happened to be looking up at the sky.

Pure dumb luck indeed.

"You're not very impressive, squishy." Skywarp commented not for the first time as the human dangled between his fingers. The jet waited, cocking his head to the side and listening to Sam's heart and lungs struggle to work, watching with mild curiosity as a fresh trail of red ran out the corner of the human's mouth to join the amount that already coated the tiny body.

When it appeared no answer was forthcoming, the Seeker stroked the rounded curve of a talon lightly against the unmarred surface of the human's face, hoping it would provoke a response like the gesture had similarly during their cycles out in the desert. Skywarp had taken the human to the polar opposite of the conditions they met in, the idea being that, since cold seemed to adversely affect the human, warmth would revive his systems. It had worked…sort of, even if Sam's answer had been nonsensical at the time, and had given Skywarp a theory about how to solve the problem of his inability to communicate with the rapidly deteriorating squishy. A quick look on the human internet and not only did the jet have a list of the substances he would need for his project but also the coordinates of their current locations on Earth, most of which were easily accessible because the squishies stored them for quick transport. A little global 'smash-n-grab' later and Skywarp had everything he'd need. Growing bored and disappointed with Sam's continued silence, Skywarp ran his talon a final time down the human's face and turned his attention back to the pod's control panel.

A snippet of reservation tried to whisper through his processor over his plan, reminding him that it was not too late, that he could still forget the whole thing, that if anyone discovered his 'project he would be terminated, but Skywarp ignored it, contenting himself with the knowledge that, if his idea worked, then he would be able to thoroughly question Sam later. After that, Skywarp could kill him as Starscream had ordered and no one- especially Megatron- would ever have to know.

Until then it was the pod for the fragile organic creature.

"Heal fast, squishy!" The Seeker depressed the button that uncovered the silicon lined instillation chute to the pod's membranous chamber and dropped the squishy in, feeling a thrill of dismay at the pained sound that drifted up from the opening just before the chute's cover plates spiraled back into place to lock out any potential contaminates. Seconds later, a valve at the top of the pod's flat back plating slid open to forcefully expel the unmoving Sam, who tumbled wildly until the thick liquid already filling the interior slowed him to a gentle stop near the bottom.

"Oh, sure, _now _you move…" He groused as he watched Sam intently. The sudden introduction into an aqueous environment seemed to restore the human somewhat and Skywarp mentally patted himself on the back as Sam's head moved, tossing from side to side. The activity spread, progressing to tiny arms and feet that jerked spasmodically, but, as the jet watched the squishy become more agitated, the idea that something could be wrong wormed its way into his processor. Sam began thrashing in earnest, dark streaks of red appearing from his wounds while he struggled against his liquid prison, the pod's monitoring systems red lighting warningly as it tracked the rising stress levels of the body within.

"No! No, no, no, no…" Skywarp muttered, desperately checking and rechecking the pod's settings, the chemical ratios, the individual valve couplings of the components he'd brought. What was wrong? What had malfunctioned? His math was flawless and he'd made sure to gather all the ingredients the human internet listed as necessary to promote growth and healing so why had something gone wrong? The jet grew more and more troubled as he watched the squishy's strange liquid filled eyes open to show stark terror, cheeks puffing out as Sam's hands clawing weakly at his throat, a foot kicking against the membrane.

Skywarp wracked his processor helplessly for an answer as he cross referenced the display with everything he had gathered from the internet and, when he realized what had the squishy in such a tizzy, let out a bark of sound that sounded so flat to his audios that it couldn't even be called a laugh. He put a hand against the dense plating covering his spark chamber and sank to his knees, putting himself at optic level with the panicked human.

"It's safe, honest!" Skywarp said, cycling his engines and pulling air through his intakes noisily in demonstration as he added, "Just, you know, inhale or whatever…"

But Sam continued to fight, his efforts becoming slower and more uncoordinated, until finally his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body off-lining. Bubbles of air trailed upward lazily from the human's mouth and nose, the pockets of gas quickly disappearing as a filtration program was triggered to clean the dirtied liquid of the bubbles and crimson taint of blood. Under the noise of the pod's filtering cycle, Skywarp could hear Sam's heart rate slow while his lungs filled, the monitoring machinery showing that the human's stress levels had plummeted back into an acceptable range as the soiled liquid was replaced with a fresh mixture, the indigo shade easily hiding the human inside from the jet's optics

Icy cold fear tried to slide through the Seeker's spark as the human remained still within the murky depths and Skywarp hesitantly pressed the smooth ridge of his claw against the membrane. Humans were supposed to be tactile creatures, a concept that was not common in Cybertronian society except between close groupings, and the jet stroked his claw along the flexible surface, pressing it inward until he nudged the motionless squishy's arm. The relief that flooded his systems bordered on pain once Sam twitched slightly in response and Skywarp hastily snatched his hand back with such zeal one would have thought the trapped human had somehow managed to harm him.

Flexing his hand nervously, the jet turned his attention to fiddling with the heating controls, increasing the pod's internal temperature until it reached the requisite human measurement of 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit, and locked the control panel so that the settings couldn't be reset by any curious idiot that happened to find the pod. Sam was as safe as he could be short of Skywarp standing guard, which, on second analysis, wasn't safe either since it would only arouse suspicion, so Sam was as safe as he could be while unconscious among human hating Decepticons.

… Skywarp triggered a scheduling program on his Head's Up Display and set it to remind him to check on the pod every two cycles but to remind him to do so every half hour.

After one last check of the systems, Skywarp deactivated the systems responsible for maintaining the minimal atmosphere and pressure before dismissing the shields partitioning off the space he stood in. Crouching, he picked up the cover sheet and replaced it carefully over the pod, the mild electrical field of the active pod brushing reassuringly against his own. He logged the sensation absently in his sensor net, as well as the unique hum of the machinery, tracking both as he walked back through the lab to the exit. Starscream was just a massive knot of rage, frustration and despair on the other end of their trine link, desperately in need of soothing, and Skywarp had neglected him long enough…

The jet whipped around, spark stuttering in its chamber as the pod's energy signature abruptly vanished along with the hum, the lights and anything else in the room connected to the base's power grid.

Almost by reflex, the jet teleported the short distance separating him from Sam, immediately flicking switches on the control panel in an attempt to get a response from something, anything! Skywarp could hear himself growling in frustration, swearing a constant stream of slag that even Starscream would have been impressed by but, by the Pit it wasn't fair! He'd worked so hard, been so careful, had done more research than ever before for a prank and now it was about to be proven useless because the slagging power had gone out!

Enraged, Skywarp kicked the wall under the pod as hard as he could, perversely satisfied when the surface shuddered even as the servos in his toes whined painfully in protest. He jumped back, startled, when Sam's pod shifted on its mounting, skewing slightly to the left. A quick check on the human proved that he had not been harmed by the movement and then Skywarp shifted his attention to the pod's wall support, studying the brackets and valve attachments on the back plating and realizing with some surprise that the whole apparatus was portable.

Portable. Designed to be mobile.

Even before the idea had fully formed in his processor, Skywarp's logic circuits were arguing against it. What he was considering now was well above and beyond even the loosest definition of sanity which he would see if he would only stop and _think_! It was too reckless, too _stupid_ and never before had he considered going so far for a prank, let alone a Pit slagging conversation! There was no way that anything the squishy said would be worth what Skywarp was considering.

The jet hesitated, talons hovering over the pod's back plating, Sam's slow heart rate loud in his audios.

* * *

Back on Earth, the sun was steadily sinking toward the horizon, paining the sky in orange and red hues that, in any other situation, Bumblebee would have considered pretty. Now, however, he resented the discoloration of the sky and the narrowing window of time it represented.

Once Optimus had arrived, the pair of Autobots had split up to cover both sides of West Drive, a small street that ran through Turning Basin Park between Springdale Road and Alexander Street. Beyond the empty Sam-sized pool near the left side of the roadway, there was no further blood evidence to indicate which way Sam had gone, and from the tire patterns, it was clear that the vehicle that had struck Sam had not stopped or reversed course to help the victim.

The latter was a fact that made Bumblebee's spark burn with a rage he hadn't known he was capable of and he had to work to keep his thoughts about the hit-and-run locked away in the back of his processor. If he let them linger then questions such as "Was Sam conscious the whole time?" and "Did he plead for help as they drove away, leaving him to die?"or "How much had Sam suffered?" arose, prompting unhelpful thoughts that ran rampant once unleashed, his emotional components short-circuiting into a screaming incoherent wail of, _Sam, Sam answer me! Please, please be alrightPrimuswhatifhe'sdeadI'mhereSamSAMSAYSOMETHING!!!_

These thoughts did not help Bumblebee remain on task and so they remained confined behind a mental barrier.

None of the local hospitals had reported receiving an accident victim fitting Sam's physical description which left two possibilities about Sam's current whereabouts: either the teenager was still in the area, hidden and unable to communicate or someone had taken him, a reality with a disturbing amount of credence given the Cybertronian footprints and the fading vestiges of a Decepticon energy signature Optimus had detected.

If the Decepticons had Sam, he was probably dead already and, if by some miracle he was still alive, then he was probably wishing for death.

The barrier shuddered warningly as the wail in the back of his processor became an anguished moan, guilt and fear eating at the scout's spark like twin demons, further disrupting his normal reasoning abilities and driving him on with an unholy desperation.

With frantic zeal, Bumblebee searched the forest on the right side of the road, his fingers carefully explored any space big enough for a human to crawl into. His sensor arrays were already at their maximum and a large section of his processor had been devoted to sorting through all the information that bounced back, paying attention to any heat signature he found no matter how small. It was entirely conceivable that a hypothermic Sam, in his injured and bleeding state, would have sought shelter in any space large enough to hold him thus hiding or even negating his regular heat production. With that thought firmly in his processor, Bumblebee peered into a large hole partially obscured by the roots of the large tree it was under and called softly to the large knot of heat his sensors had detected, having to stomp down on the excitement that tried to overtake him when something moved.

_Sam?SamsamsamsamsamSAM!!!!!_

::Optimus I think I found him!:: He sent over the radio, peripherally aware of the Prime immediately heading toward him as, underground, the heat signature shifted and began heading upward toward the mouth of the burrow, closer to the yellow Autobot.

"That's it," He coaxed softly, pulling a blanket from a subspace pocket and already priming his internal heaters so that once he transformed he would be able to warm Sam as fast possible. "C'mon Sam, it's safe…"

Small black eyes peered up at him as an extremely large female raccoon emerged from the burrow, sniffing at the air before letting out a low growl of warning and running off into the forest.

…_NonononononoSAMWHEREAREYOU?!_

He keened piteously. Sam wasn't here. He could search the forest until the sun burned itself out but Sam wasn't here which meant that the second possible explanation was the correct one. The realization was like a laser blast through Bumblebee's spark chamber. The Decepticons had Sam which meant...which meant…

_Sam's dead._

His mental barrier crumbled, emotional components seizing control, and the yellow scout glitched violently as his world seemed to implode.

* * *

If looks could kill, Leo's body would be stone cold.

"What do you mean, 'Sam's missing?'" Mikaela growled, her voice was tinny but no less malicious as it came through the small speakers of Sam's computer. Even over the video feed from a webcam, her glare was exactly as Leo remembered- absolutely terrifying- and he was infinitely glad that thousands of miles separated them physically.

"Just what I said!" Leo threw up his hands and wished he wasn't sweating so badly. Unable to keep still, he began pacing in a tight little circle in front of the computer as he, again, repeated the same story he had told Optimus a few hours ago. "And then Optimus said that 'Bee had found Sam's blood and I thought you'd want to know…but I had to get to class…"

"Class? Sam's _missing _and you had to go to class?!" Mikaela's tone was absolutely murderous as she pulled her webcam off its perch and leveled it so that only her eyes showed in the chat window. "You selfish little bastard!"

"Hey! Whoa! Excuse me for even telling you then!" Leo practically leapt back from the computer, putting his hands up in a warding gesture, as if somehow she'd be able to harm him through the computer. "You know, I'm a very busy man! I have a business to run, you know…"

Mikaela's eyebrows arched, her eyes narrowing, and Leo swore that he could see his death in her eyes. "The only reason you're telling me at all is because you know that I'd kill you if you didn't!"

How could Sam date this monster?! Brain damage- it had to be- that was the only logical explanation! "S-see if I ever help you again…" He said, trying to regain some manly dignity and failing as he flinched back as he accidentally made direct eye contact.

"And what, if anything, have you done to help the search effort?" She hissed, getting up and moving in and out of the webcam's field as she carried out some task- it looked like she was throwing laundry around…

"I," Leo gulped, the realization that she was packing hitting him like a fist to his gut. She was coming here! He mentally scrambled, panicking until he remembered that he had done way more than she had. Lifting his chin and folding his arms over his chest, he tried to adopt an air of superiority. "I, I, I put my life on the line and found the guys who grabbed him! I told them that messing with Sam was like messing with my family and no one messes with my family! I kicked their asses until they told me everything they knew! So, so the question is, what have you done for Sam?"

Mikaela's expression morphed into one of innocence. She pulled it off so perfectly that it sent a chill down Leo's spine and made him momentarily doubt his sanity. "Well, since I just found out, the answer is nothing. Yet." She disappeared briefly from the frame then returned, expression hostile. "Now listen here, _moron_. We both know that you're useless in a fight and a complete pussy-"

"I am not a pussy!" Leo snarled, indignant and outraged.

"-And that you would have to be dragged to any life-threatening fight unless it was completely stacked in your favor. Seriously? Who did you fight? Band geeks? The A/V club? Did you take their lunch money too?"

"Don't confuse me with your former loser boyfriend." Leo hissed, affronted, too angry to actually think of a better response. There was nothing wrong with being preoccupied with self-preservation but he had put his self interests aside once he found out Sam was missing! Maybe he hadn't fought like, Mike Tyson or Megatron or anyone like that but the fact remained that Leo _had_ fought to find out what had happened to his missing roommate. "I actually have the IQ to keep a seat warm and the honor to risk my ass to save a friend in trouble!"

Mikaela's gaze was flat but all the same her eyes seemed to see right through him. "The only reason you'd risk your ass without a gun pressed to your head is because you know that, if anything happened to Sam, then you'd be the first suspect to his group of very big, very powerful _friends_. Peace loving or not, they've fought a war for longer than human history and they'd be very, very angry if they even thought you had something to do with it. They are all very protective of Sam, especially so considering that the bad guys are still out there, and you know damn well that no edict on the planet would protect you from Bumblebee's wrath."

Leo's mouth worked but no sound came out and, as his emotions warred with each other, it was impossible to know which one kept him silent. He was so angry he wanted to scream, so guilty he wanted to run away, and so many, many other things that ranged anywhere from making him want to cry to want to hide to call his priest for an appropriate penance.

"I am going to call the Witwicky's then get on a plane to come out there." Mikaela continued when he remained silent. "In the meantime, I want you to start searching news reports worldwide for anything odd, like our kind of _odd, _and make a list. If Sam's disappeared without a trace then there're really only a handful of reasons and none of them involve an impromptu vacation. Keep your phone on- I'll call you when I land so you can pick me up."

"I'm not your chauffer!" Leo said, finally finding his voice. "I have homework! And class! Call 'Bee or Optim…"

But he was talking to an empty screen and there was nothing to do except shut down Sam's computer, head over to the opposite side of the room and start prowling the internet.

* * *

A/N: Hopefully the following will clear up any issues that have popped up during both chapters.

I have to be honest, I've never been anywhere near Princeton University but I did grow up on the East Coast and I know how damn cold it can get in Fall at night. For those who have experienced it, then this will be no surprise but the cold out there isn't just a drop in temperature. It's like a live thing with teeth and claws that bites and stings, that tears right through you down to the bones, stealing your breath, burning you from the inside out as it slowly locks your joints and robs you of complex thought. For Sam, a Californian native, to be grabbed from his nice warm bed, then spirited away in a warm car, only to be dumped in the forest in the middle of the night…? Maybe I'm overplaying it but, as I see it, there's no way he's going to do well so I am sorry if he comes off a bit of a wuss. It honestly wasn't meant as a slight to his overall character if anyone got offended. I had a similar reaction when acclimating to the ungodly heat out here when I moved to the West Coast. I arrived in summer and it was like being locked in a furnace with no escape. I didn't leave the safety of a functioning A/C unit for months afterward. On the flipside, once I gained my heat resistance, I lost my cold tolerance so now I'm screwed when I visit home.

Hope Leo sounds a bit more in character.

Keep in mind that there is a learning curve for everything and, as advanced as they are, I sincerely doubt that Cybertronians are exceptions to this rule. Even when the new concept is fully understood, it's more likely that older patterns would be followed over the new information though minor corrections could be incorporated into the older patterns. How is this relevant to the story? It's why Skywarp decides to jury-rig something more familiar to him and doesn't just drop Sam off at a hospital. Also, having knowledge doesn't necessarily mean you know how to apply it. Don't believe me? Read through a neuroscienece book then go conduct brain surgery.

Science moment for the day: There is such a thing as breathable liquid through it is more commonly referred to as fluid breathing and is- as far as I can tell- still quite experimental. The idea behind it is to create an oxygen enriched liquid that could be used in diving, medicine (specifically in premature babies and adults with ARDS) and space travel. I imagine that there are many other uses out there but these are the top three I found and though I'm all for the refinement of such technology, I doubt it will ever be integrated fully into any society's cultural since we as humans are hard-wired to, ya know, avoid drowning. Imagine being hurled into a deep lake with weights tied to your ankles and someone calmly telling you to 'just breathe normally' before your head sinks under water. Scary as hell probably doesn't even come close as a description. For the purposes of this story, the mix Skywarp's using has several features that the regular stuff does not… at least, I think, anyway. Good to know that neither I nor James Cameron pulled the idea out of thin air, eh?

FYI: Now, for those of you only familiar with the movie-verse characters, then Skywarp is going to be a little bit of a mystery. Though I'm trying to hold to the actual personality displayed in the original G1 Transformer's cartoon, I am taking a few liberties with some characteristics that I think would justifiably mature given how long the war between both factions has raged. His reasoning capability will be the biggest victim of this since, without someone around that he'll listen to to keep him in line, I suspect that Skywarp would have been one of the first Decepticon casualties once Megatron fired the first salvo of the war.

Skywarp, for the record, is one of a pair of Seeker's that make up Starscream's Trine. He is the prankster/ free spirit of the group and is kept in line usually by Thundercracker, the last Trine member. Since he is never portrayed as the most intelligent or the most violent Decepticon, Skywarp's biggest asset is his ability to teleport over distances, though the limits of his talent are greatly debated. Skywarp takes the alternate form of an F-22 Raptor but, unlike bronze Starscream, his coloring is distinctive: matte black with purple (or lavender) trim.

I am trying to stick to a schedule but chapter three may be a bit late. Starscream's being a whiner.


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings for this chapter: Starscream is a **major **angst factory though not without reason. As such, for the welfare of any reader who has been affected by the loss of a child, specifically an infant, _skip his first scene._ Though it sheds some light on his point of view, it is not imperative to the overall story plot, and you can skip it without missing anything. I do not want to provoke bad memories so, if you think that you may have an…um… adverse reaction (::face palms due to lameness of terminology::), then skip that scene. If necessary, I'll do a quick recap at the beginning of chapter four.

For anyone who decides to read it, I would be very interested to know how it was received.

Oh! Sex poll in the Author's Notes! (No, it's not as pervy as it sounds.)

Disclaimer: No, I do not own any of the Transformers franchise. I make no profit, monetarily or otherwise, from this unauthorized usage of the Hasbro owned characters.

* * *

Serendipity Chapter 3

If a stunt was deemed reckless and/or stupid, it was a safe bet that not only had Skywarp been there, done that, but that he'd also metaphorically bought the T-shirt, the collectable keychain, and held a lifelong membership card as well.

Reprogrammed the maintenance drones to repaint the Nemesis (though that hadn't been its name at the time) an optic gouging acid green just before its public reveal and christening by the High Council? Mined the single hallway leading to the only energon dispenser unit in the base before announcing increased rations for everyone over the internal communications network then set up the security feed to tape the results? Reconfigure the timing mechanisms on Thundercracker's explosives so that they blew up in his face rather than the Autobot the Seeker was aiming at? Using industrial epoxy to glue the doors to Megatron's personal quarters and office shut then spreading the rumor that the High Lord Protector was going senile because he couldn't remember the requisite door codes? All just samples of Skywarp's work.

In much the same way that everyone kept a record of their personal accomplishments, Skywarp kept a data log of all the pranks he'd pulled and, occasionally, when he was bored or in need of cheering up, he would recall some of his favorites. This usually did the trick but not even going through the whole log- tera-bytes of information!- could improve Skywarp's state of mind at that moment.

His entire frame throbbed with the sensation of being too full, as if his internals had swollen obscenely in response to the pod's presence, and it was affecting both his mobility and his balance as he sought out his assigned quarters. Moving slowly, with one hand on the external armor protecting his spark chamber and the other braced against the corridor wall for support, the Seeker struggled to ignore his protesting systems and pretend that the pod was not playing havoc with his normally lithe and aerodynamic body. Even though he understood the reason behind the side effects, he really didn't like the new development and, belatedly, Skywarp wondered if his ability to fly would be affected.

"You better appreciate this, squishy." The jet muttered darkly, stroking the heavy armor of his chest in an effort to relieve the aching weight.

Surprisingly, installing the pod physically hadn't been terribly complicated. Skywarp had managed to attach the intake and outtake tubing without too much trouble, easily integrating them into his systems since, as a flight capable frame, he had redundant cooling, heating, and waste disposal systems that could easily handle the minimal addition strain internalizing the pod would cause. No, it was the issue of power that really became a problem because, though the pod was easily equipped to deliver energon to a hatchling, it wasn't built to actually run off of it. There was no fuel converter, no internal refining process, in the pod's design and thus it could only use electrical energy to function. Skywarp had run a quick diagnostic, hunting for any system within his design specs that would be capable of supplying the needed energy without causing either him or the pod permanent damage. He'd only managed to find one system he could tap into without worrying about injury and he had quickly capitalized on it before he could think twice.

Trine-mate or not, Starscream would kill him if he ever found out.

An alert on his HUD popped up to inform him that the rudimentary coding for the pod's software had been successfully installed and that the rest of the parameters were being incorporated into Skywarp's background functions. Great; once everything was downloaded, he wouldn't have to consciously manage the needs of the pod beyond making sure he had enough supplies sub-spaced to keep everything up and running. The Seeker groaned, pausing in his trek again briefly to rub his chest plating, proximity sensors at maximum to warn him of anyone approaching because he was a complete sitting duck. The reminder of his vulnerability grated against his armor, prodding Skywarp into movement once more.

Though he thanked Primus the corridor remained empty, the lack of any kind of evidence that other personnel were around began to bother Skywarp. Where was everyone anyway? Surly not everyone was on duty cycle… But his curiosity and anxiety were quickly pushed aside in favor of concern for himself, his concentration focusing on blocking his trine-mate from feeling any of his problems since Starscream was trying very hard to pry open it open. Skywarp knew that the other Seeker needed him but, even as the guilt ate at him, the teleporter also knew that he just didn't have the requisite energy or processor capability to spare. He'd only be doing more harm than good if he answered 'Screamer's calls and so, unable to do anything else, Skywarp ignored them as he forced his heavy limbs forward to cover the distance between himself and his berth.

With nothing to dampen it, the angry buzz of his intake fans working hard to cool his internals down was unbelievably loud in the restricted space of the hallway. As if the heat weren't bad enough, his spark felt as if it were hurling itself against its containment field in agitation, and Skywarp had never in his existence wanted anything so badly than to just reach his room for a long recharge. For a moment he debated simply teleporting the distance but ultimately decided that walking would be the safer, if more tedious option. On the heels of that decision, he made another one to later track down the slagger who designed this Pit spawned base and terminate them for putting the living apartments so fragging far away-

Skywarp's progress came to an abrupt unsteady stop as he turned a shallow corner and literally ran into the last mech in the universe he wanted to see outside of his irate trine-mate.

"M-my Lord!" The Seeker immediately took a step back and dropped to the floor on one knee, spreading his arms in a bow, his intake fans redlining from the strain of the movement. The sudden shift in position made him disoriented and, for the first time, Skywarp experienced what it was like to have no idea where he was in relation to space, a sensation completely foreign for a Seeker. It made his tanks pitch and roil threateningly but the teleporter knew that however bad he felt now would be nothing compared to how Megatron would make him feel if Skywarp purged on the Decepticon Leader. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt you…uh…"

Though his optics remained on the floor, his sensor arrays informed him of the violent scene that lay not too far from his position and Skywarp inwardly balked, deciding that he should say no more in the interest of self-preservation.

Something had set off Megatron's infamous temper and the mech had gone on a veritable rampage in the corridor. The bulk heads were shredded, strips of metal curling down the walls as installation sealant puddled below to reflect the sparking light fixtures that dangled like bizarre ornaments after having been pulled from their placements. Dents marred the few intact places on the walls as well as the floor, helping Skywarp map out the path Megatron had followed as he vented his rage and, considering the damage, it was rather interesting to note that the other had managed to confine his anger to only that one segment of the corridor. Since he had not heard the destruction taking place, the Decepticon leader should have burned off his blood-lust but that didn't mean that Skywarp's sudden untimely arrival couldn't stir it back up again.

The Seeker remained as still and nonthreatening as possible, bowing slightly lower in deference to his lord, content to let the kliks crawl by until the other either gave him an order, beat the slag out of him, or left. Skywarp had thought that no one could be as moody as Starscream but Megatron could go from zero to homicidal faster than anyone Skywarp had ever met and it was best to wait for some indication of what whim to cater to. Of course, staying quiet didn't always help either. Silence was a trap the High Lord Protector used seldomly but well and, when he did, it usually meant that the mech being ignored was facing permanent deactivation in the near future. Worse yet, there wasn't a definite way to fox the trap: talk too much, or too little, and either could mean death by torture or continued existence depending solely on Megatron's mood. Starscream, being the one with the most experience when it came to their leader's wrath, had tried to explain the intricacies of how to handle such a situation to him but Skywarp had tuned out shortly after the conversation began because it was boring. After Starscream gave up, Skywarp had simplified it all under a generic edict: A silent Megatron was a deadly Megatron. In retrospect, he really should have listened to Starscream's advice even if it was boring...

Skywarp's processor _ached_.

Megatron had not moved, simply stood there blocking the Seeker's way and, as a precaution, Skywarp temporarily cut power to his vocalizer as he waited to be acknowledged, tightening his armor plates closing to his frame to absorb impact from any surprise blows.

A hand descended onto the back of Skywarp's helm, the wide palm covering most of the surface easily, and Skywarp fought not to flinch away as his processor absently calculated how crippling it would be if Megatron sank his claws into the teleporter's head and _pulled_.

"Skywarp," Megatron's voice was…strangely empty considering how normally volatile he could be. His fingers began stroking over Skywarp's head, tracing the contours of the armor, following the dips and curves, mapping it all in a manner that was almost -but not quite- absent. It was too intent to be dismissive and the Seeker felt his spark stutter in fear because, outside of trines, gestalts, bond-mates, or berth mates, uninitiated intimate touching in the Decepticon Army never ended well for the one being touched. The prospect of forcibly interfacing with Megatron made Skywarp's armor crawl and his spark freeze in its casing.

"My Lord." Skywarp struggled to respond in a neutral tone as he stared hard at the floor, wondering if Megatron would allow him to pull away. He scrambled to think of something more to say as the other's hand began to trace Skywarp's left shoulder assembly until an alert popped up on his HUD informing him that finally the pod's software had been successfully installed though he would need to reboot to fully incorporate it into his vital function subroutines. Not even a nanoklik later did another alert appear to warn him that the pod was initiating a filtration cycle before the thicker fluid was flooding his waste lines, making them swell painfully with pressure until they emptied into his protesting tank.

With a muffled explosion and a flare of pain, one of Skywarp's intake fans blew, interrupting the tense atmosphere as it startled both the Seeker and Megatron.

"What was that?" The Decepticon leader's tone was somewhere between curiosity and irritation as his hand paused in its exploration of Skywarp's shoulder and began edging down the Seeker's back to where his vents were located, the strained whine of the remaining fan shrill in their audios. "What have you done that is causing you to overheat?"

Skywarp sagged slightly, putting himself in contact with as much of the cool flooring metal as possible as he struggled to think, his HUD lighting up with alarms as his core temperature skyrocketed beyond safe parameters.

"Earth fuel," The Seeker said thinly, grasping at an explanation that had gotten him into trouble in the past as Megatron bent over him, fingers inspecting Skywarp's vent. "Long flight, low fuel, tried some when planet side. Doesn't agree…" Skywarp's tanks heaved with purpose and he shoved Megatron away as hard as he could with barely enough time to spare as his entire intake system reversed itself so violently it momentarily blanked his audio/visual feeds. When they returned it was in a series of disorienting static filled bursts and, if he'd been standing, the jet would have fallen, so Skywarp counted it as a good thing that he was already on the floor. Mindlessly he murmured apologies for the mess and wirelessly called for maintenance drones to scrub the area clean as he tried to pick himself up to face punishment.

Hands gripped his shoulders, hauling him up, and Skywarp couldn't help the whimper that escaped as he was dragged to his feet and pressed roughly against the wrecked bulkhead, the spindly streams of metal seeming to grasp for him. He flinched back for the Decepticon Leader but didn't dare try to escape, waiting for the pain, waiting for punishment because weakness of any kind was not tolerated among Decepticons and certainly not by its leader! Skywarp sagged, Megatron's grip the only thing keeping him upright as his knee joints folded underneath him, error reports and warning racing across his HUD. He was perilously close to emergency shutdown but Skywarp remained silent, wondering if Megatron would still hurt him if he wasn't online to feel it…

And then he must have offlined without realizing it because he began to dream that Megatron threw Skywarp's arm over his own shoulder assemblies, taking the smaller Seeker's weight as the Decepticon leader headed back down the destroyed section of hallway to an empty apartment. Skywarp dreamed that Megatron settled him on a room's large berth and spread cleanser soaked cleaning cloths from the maintenance unit over the Seeker's armor. He dreamed that the High Lord Protector unsubspaced a pathetically small cube of energon and poured it directly into Skywarp's external intake valve before resetting the room's temperature controls and leaving without comment.

But all of that had to have been imagined, a delusion that Skywarp's over heated processor cobbled together as his logic circuits fried, because Megatron, leader of the glorious Decepticon army, was incapable of showing anything remotely like kindness or compassion even toward his subordinates…

Wasn't he?

But the heavy ramifications were too difficult to hold on to and Skywarp put the whole thing aside to sink gratefully into a long recharge.

* * *

"I can't believe you brought him with you!" Leo groused, mouth twisting up into an expression of disdain though his eyes remained firmly on the road as he followed the parade of cars driving away from Philadelphia International Airport. "Was he your carry on?"

"Shut up, Chia pet!" Wheelie hissed, sitting comfortably in Mikaela's lap and looking around at the slow moving traffic. "You're just jealous you don't have a girlfriend!"

"You don't either, midget!" Leo said, pointing a finger at the small Transformer, nearly loosing the digit when Wheelie snapped at it. "And I thought you were an Autobot now. Shouldn't you be staying with them?"

Wheelie waved a hand dismissively. "Autobot-Shmatobot. Warrior Goddess is my leader."

Mikaela stroked a hand over Wheelie's head and back, smiling patiently as he wrapped his hands around her upper arm possessively. "Wheelie lives with me and helps me in the shop. He's my head security officer and both Wheelie and Boss have already stopped three attempted break-ins this month."

"Did he hump them into submission?" Leo sneered then yelped as her fist connected with his arm, making the car swerve in the lane.

"You know that I still have video of you snuggling with Simmons in Egypt, right?" Wheelie said in a disarmingly conversational tone as he made faces out the window at a kid in the car next to them. The kid stared for a minute then took up the challenge, making faces right back.

"So," Leo cleared his throat and stared straight ahead at the road, speeding up a bit to get away from kid as the woman in the front passenger seat turned around to see what was making her son act up. "Three break-ins, huh? Good job. What do you tell your dad about him?"

Mikaela didn't bother to look up from the list she was studying. Leo had been surprisingly thorough in while she'd been in the air and the paper not only listed what items had been stolen but also when and where. Distractedly, she said, "Sam came up with the excuse. Princeton has the reputation of having excellent engineering and math departments, right? I just told my dad that Wheelie's a joint venture between them as an experiment in A.I. development that needed to they wanted to test in real world conditions."

"Real world conditions my aft." Wheelie sneered. "He loses to me at poker and has me fetch him beer. When I was with the Decepticons…Ooooh! Right there…"

Mikaela derailed the tirade he was segueing into by stroking a particularly sensitive spot, stroking cables and teasing her finger under some of his armor plates until he was the equivalent of robotic goo nuzzling between her breasts.

Leo glanced at them, one eyebrow arched. "Uh huh. What do tell your dad when the little freak humps your leg- OW! Can't you see I'm driving woman?! You want to kill us all?"

"Chemistry was never my best subject…" Ignoring him, Mikaela frowned at the paper, eyes aching as the stress began to catch up with her. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she looked down at the small mech, who roused as she spoke. "Can you make any sense out of this, Wheelie?"

"I'm not much of a chem whiz either, Warrior Goddess but I'll give it a shot." Taking the paper from her, he tilted his head as he read, armor plates fluttering slightly. "The reception out here sucks so looking them up on the 'net is out but that one," He tapped one of the items with his index digit. "is an anti-inflammatory… and the one below it's a human hormone… and the one below that is a kind of experimental liquid oxygen."

"What, like, 'LCL'?" Leo asked, watching traffic as he merged into another lane.

"LCL?" Mikaela repeated blankly, vaguely irritated by the interruption.

"Yeah, you know, LCL? Neon Genesis Evangelion?" He risked a glance at her then rolled his eyes. "Look it's supposed to be, like, this breathable liquid stuff. In the anime, the kids who pilot these giant mechs are submerged in it when they're commanding the robot. Funny thing is that they can talk normally when they're in it," He laughed, turning his head to look at her. "But we all know that _that_'s impossible…" His smile disappeared as the other two stared at him. "Uh, never mind."

"Nerd." Wheelie said into the resulting silence.

"Over grown tin can." Leo growled, looking back at the road and glaring at it.

Mikaela pinched the bridge of her nose. "…Okay. So, whatever it is, would a Cybertronian be able to use any of it?"

"Not that I know of." Wheelie handed her back the list, shrugging. "Though I suppose that oxygen stuff could be used for, I dunno, cushioning…"

"Cushioning?" Mikaela asked, confusion evident. "I thought you said it was a liquid."

Wheelie made a waffling motion with his hand. "It's a gel to be exact, more like, like Jell-O than water…"

"Jell-O?" She stared down at him as if waiting for a punch line. "What would giant robots want with Jell-O?"

"Apparently there really is always room for Jell-O." Leo deadpanned, making Mikaela snort as Wheelie rolled his optics and face-palmed.

"You're a real fragging comedian. Look," Wheelie said, raising his head and tapping the paper pointedly. "Forget the items themselves for a moment and check out the times when the heists took place."

"They were all at the same time." Leo said, taking an exit ramp and speeding up.

"No," Mikaela corrected as she saw what Wheelie was getting at. "They all take place _nearly _at the same time with seconds between each theft, a minute at most."

"You got it, doll face." Wheelie said, looking up at her with a quick grin. "If it was a coordinated attack they'd all happen at the same time. No time difference. Megatron was always kinda anal about that..."

"Anal-retentive robot." Leo snorted then calmed. "Okay, so there's a time difference. You're going to tell me that, what, _one _Decepticon popped all around the world stealing crap that's worthless to them?"

Mikaela shrugged. "Well, we won't know if it's worthless or not until we get a hold of the others and find out what all this stuff is."

"But, yeah, that's about the size of it." Wheelie said, answering Leo's question. "Hey, how far away is your school anyway? Are we there yet?"

Leo shot the small Cybertronian a glare. "Don't you dare!"

"Yeah, Leo," Mikaela said sweetly, ignoring his warning. "Are we there yet?"

Leo turned up the radio and hit the gas as the pair began a non-stop chorus of the question.

* * *

(Warning!)ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo(Warning!)

The only illumination in the room, the pale phosphorescence of the pods cast small scattered pools of light in the hatchery and, though he would never admit it, Starscream liked to lay under the pods and be bathed in that light. It was innocent and pure and, just for a little while, he could pretend that the war didn't exist, that the whole universe had stopped and only he and these sparklings existed, and that it would all be okay. It was a pathetic wish, one of a weak processor, one that would get him slagged in a spark pulse by Megatron, but it was one Starscream clung to, especially when he was emotionally overloaded like now.

Sitting on the hatchery floor, the Air Commander hunched over the latest victim of his failure, hugging it carefully as its little spark began to gutter. As he had for the past six hundred and fourteen, Starscream stroked the soft fragile form carefully, committing its design specifications to memory while murmuring stories of the Well of All Sparks in the sparkling's small audio. The Seeker spoke of a loving god he no longer believed in on a home world he'd nearly forgotten and tried to describe the sensation of flying because it was the most wonderful feeling Starscream knew of, and because it was a joy this sparkling would never know. And he apologized, over and over, even after the sparkling's spark chamber was empty.

Number six hundred and fifteen would have been a Seeker.

Aching with every movement, Starscream eventually stood and placed the body/shell/non-sparkling-thing gently back inside its ruptured pod and activated the sequence that would slowly harden the flexible membrane into plasglass. With precision and care, the Air Commander used the time to expertly place the ripped material in its proper placement so that there would be no leaks of the protective argon gas preserving the fragile form inside the small space. Once the coffin was sealed, he placed it in a room adjacent to the hatchery, off-lining his optics and letting his proximity sensors alone guide him because Starscream, coward that he was, didn't want to see the contents of the room anymore than he absolutely had to. He already knew every detail, knew every empty little face, knew what each of those sparklings would never be.

He already knew because it haunted him whether online or in recharge and for this Starscream cursed Sam Witwicky and the Autobots to the very bottom of his spark. These sparklings might have died under the Seeker's care but it was because there was no fuel for them that they kept dying! For the sake of a race of useless organic insects, Optimus and his human-loving imbeciles had condemned the Cybertronian race to extinction.

One tiny sparkling at a time.

Starscream wondered if it was too late to ask Skywarp to simply kidnap, not kill, the Witwicky creature and if Megatron would allow the Air Commander to exact revenge one fleshy little limb at a time.

He had to force his hands to let go of Six-hundred-and-fifteen's coffin, had to reissue the command several times before the gears in his arms would turn, the pistons work, because his emotional attachment circuitry was wailing, screaming, not to leave the sparkling in this cold, dark place, to break the plasglass and rescue the little body from the container, as if that would somehow reignite its spark…! It ordered him not to let go but Starscream did, as he had six hundred and fourteen times before, setting the coffin in line with the nearest row with a final caress of the frosted glass and shutting the door behind him as he left.

Steadfastly facing away from the coffin room's door and all the lost little lives behind it, Starscream sat on the floor in the glow of the pods and tried to pretend that it would all be okay, that they would find enough energon so that no more sparklings had to die, that there was hope beyond the war, that there was a future and surviving sparklings would be proud to claim.

But he couldn't and his thoughts kept returning to the room behind him and the soulless little shells entombed within it. At some point, he knew, he would get used to it, that each death would get a little bit easier to handle, that his spark wouldn't scream with pain at the loss of another sparkling.

Starscream didn't know if he would greet that day with joy or simply keen in despair.

* * *

(Safe now)ooooooooooooooooooooo(Safe now)

Mikaela didn't bother to watch Leo drive away. Once the baggage had been unloaded from the car, she hefted the bags and trudged up the grass toward the top of the shallow hill as Wheelie transformed and drove ahead of her feet, automatically checking to make sure the path was clear of danger. Both of them steadfastly ignored the grave markers dotting the landscape around them as they approached the familiar red and blue form awaiting them.

"Hello Mikaela," Optimus greeted, bending down to rest on one knee so that she didn't have to strain. "It is a pleasure to see you again, though I wish the circumstances were not as grave."

"Hey Optimus." She smiled in spite of herself, temporarily forgetting the reason for her hurried visit and losing herself in the moment. Dropping her suitcase, she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his exposed shin in a quick hug, gaining a deep sense of comfort from touching him. Optimus was like the ultimate security blanket or comfort toy- reassuring, empowering, and not only able stop a bullet but ready to return fire in a fight. "Good to see you, too. Any news about Sam?"

Understanding the human's need for touch, the Autobot leader didn't move, instead waiting patiently until she stepped back on her own to continue the conversation. "None as of yet, unfortunately. We are already using N.E.S.T.'s resources to investigate his disappearance but more time is needed for any definitive answers."

"As long as you're trying." She seemed to deflate slightly, hunching in on herself as she looked at the grass under her feet, hugging herself. Concerned, Optimus scanned her for any physical abnormality.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Wheelie rolled up from where he had been parked, content until now to give them the illusion of privacy. He positioned himself in front of Mikaela before transforming and standing at his full height. "I don't care who you are- that's a violation of her privacy!"

"My apologies," Optimus rumbled, as Mikaela looked up in surprise, frowning at both Cybertronians in puzzlement. "It was not my intention to offend."

Wheelie put his hands on his hips, frowning up at the bigger mech. "Her bondmate's disappeared without a trace, there's some really screwy Decepticon activity going on, she's been trapped in a tin can with wings for the past six hours and hasn't eaten all day. Is it any wonder why she's a little stressed out? Warrior Goddess needs a good meal and a long rest before she can go into battle again."

"I'm not stressed out!" Mikaela's cheeks were crimson as she glared at the small transformer, her heart rate increasing despite her words. "And you saw me eat on the plane. Let's find the others and get Sam!"

"Whatever it was you ate it wasn't food." Wheelie muttered quietly as he turned around and made a placating gesture. "Easy, Warrior Goddess, we will but Boss'll drop kick me into next week if I let you charge out right now. Besides, all we have to go on is the list Chia pet came up with. We need more information to find Sam and figuring out what all that stuff is and how the Decepticons are using it could lead us right to them. Research takes energy and concentration so why not grab something to eat and a nap so you can think clearly?"

"I am thinking clearly!" Mikaela insisted, fists balling at her sides, her hostile glare making Wheelie back up out of easy kick range. Her target gone, she glared up at Optimus instead."Why are we just standing here when Sam's running out of time?!"

"Sam has already run out of time." A familiar voice said flatly. Heavy footsteps announced Bumblebee's arrival before he actually appeared from behind a large mausoleum, coming to stand next to Optimus, door wings drooping. "Sam's dead."

Mikaela recoiled from the faux camaro as if he'd slapped her, expression a mixture of horror and betrayal. At her feet, Wheelie hissed something vile at the other mech in Cybertronian.

"Bumblebee!" Optimus' voice was sharp, his tone saying plainly that he was appalled with the scout's behavior as he stood to his full height.

"He's dead!" Bumblebee's voice was no longer flat. Instead it was harsh, full of hostility and pain and grief. "The Decepticons killed him!"

"How can you say that?" Mikaela asked, having to yell over strange sound of gears grinding. "How can you just give up on him? If you disappeared, you know damn well that Sam wouldn't stop trying to rescue you!"

"He's dead!" Bumblebee hissed at her, taking a step toward her in an obvious threat. "This is a recovery mission now, not a rescue. Just accept it and move on! It hurts less."

The last was said so quietly that Mikaela nearly didn't hear it but, when she processed the statement, everything clicked into place. Optimus was glaring at the scout, no doubt reprimanding him over the radio, and she used the distraction to her advantage, fishing a miniature baseball bat from her suitcase that her dad had gotten for her as a souvenir years ago. After fighting with the airline over Wheelie as her carry-on, it had been relatively easy to bring the bat aboard, the only stipulation being that she placed it in her checked luggage, and Mikaela had readily agreed, knowing that if she were attacked in midair the bat wouldn't make much of a distance.

Hefting the solid weight of the bat, Mikaela marched up to Bumblebee's leg and swung it into the armor as hard as she could, putting all her weight behind the blow. She kept hitting him, opting to let her actions over her words tell him exactly what she thought of his stupidity, following and attacking him even as he retreated.

"You _fragger!_" Mikaela screamed, ignoring Wheelie as he grabbed hold of her leg and tried to use his minimal weight to pull her back. She ignored him, instead punctuating each of her words with a hit as she continued to rage at the scout. "If they had killed him, do you honestly think those morons wouldn't rub Sam's death in our faces? Don't you think that Megatron wouldn't gloat about finally getting revenge?! They'd post a fucking billboard about it and post the videotape of the God damn after-party on YouTube!"

Exhausted, throat raw and eyes burning, Mikaela sunk to the ground, hands falling like lead weights at her sides, the splintered remains of her bat cutting into her palms roughly. Now that she was at his height, Wheelie hugged her hard, making small worried noises as he turned his attention to her wounds and began pulling the wood free of her flesh. "Until he's in front of me on a slab in the morgue, I refuse to consider that Sam's dead and as his friends you should, too. Anyone who tries to tell me different gets a bat in their transformation cog and their limbs welded together."

Ignoring the small Transformer's protests, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her bloodied hands and pulled the list from her jacket pocket, unfolding and waving it as she glared up at both Cybertronians mutinously. "Now get Ratchet on the phone- I want to know exactly what all this stuff is and what a Decepticon could use it for."

* * *

_::Skywarp, I need you.::_ Starscream sent via radio since the other Seeker was blocking their trine bond. He sagged against the doorway of the hatchery, watching the pods with almost desperate vigilance, part of his spark convinced that if he looked away for even a nanoclick another sparkling would die. Two sets of eyes would be even better- more vigilance, less death- and because of Megatron's volatile temperament, the only option left was Skywarp. Trying again to provoke an answer from his trine-mate, the Air Commander steadfastly ignored the adamant warning flashing across his HUD that told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to recharge. _::Skywarp respond!:: _

Starscream knew that the other was within the base and was frustrated by both the lack of response and the fact that he couldn't leave to go find the dark Seeker. Spark aching so badly with the need for physical contact that Starscream nearly collapsed from it, the Seeker hunched around himself, digits stroking over his armor panels, optics never straying from the pods. He had to keep watch, had to protect them, recharge be damned. No more dead sparklings, no more coffins added to the tomb!

Six hundred and fifteen…! _::Skywarp!::_

The alert for recharge became a countdown, one Starscream immediately overrode.

Part of his processor noted that he was twitching- glitching- and that his visual feed was striated by static but his emotional centers wouldn't let him think properly beyond the welfare of the sparklings. He had to stay, had to protect them…

The sound of a footstep behind him made Starscream snarl, his chain gun already visible as he turned enough to face the threat while still keeping an eye on the pods. The laser sight painting Megatron brightly never wavered even after Starscream's processor finally recognized his commander and the pair stood that way until an alarm sounded from the hatchery. With a warning snarl at Megatron, Starscream spun, chain gun folding away as he hurried into the room to see to the sparkling in distress.

"Shh," Starscream soothed, trilling reassuringly as he worked the pod's controls, ordering the equipment to flush the coolant line causing the problem. In the center of his HUD, the countdown appeared again, this time starting at a considerably lower time frame, and with considerable malice the Seeker banished it away, preoccupied with his duties. "It's alright, I'm here."

Inside the pod, the sparkling stopped squirming in the surrounding liquid and settled down on its side against the pod's back plating, testing the elasticity of its oversized mandibles before curling its arms and legs to its chest, its barbed tail arching up to warp over its head to trail down its spine.

"There you go," Starscream cooed, lowering the pod's internal temperature slightly to compensate for the sparkling's heat generating position. Satisfied that the sparkling was fine, he stepped back, intending to go make his rounds of the remaining pods, but Megatron stepped in his way and grabbed Starscream's shoulders, turning the protesting Seeker around toward the entrance of the hatchery.

"Go recharge Starscream." Megatron gave him a shove toward the opening but the Seeker dug in his pedes, balking at the dismissal. He snarled wordlessly, trying to twist out of the other's grip when the Decepticon leader began steering him by the grip he had on Starscream's shoulder mounts. "That's an order, Air Commander."

Despite the Seeker's thrashing, Megatron ignored the talons that clawed at his hands and pushed the other easily over the threshold. The Decepticon leader remained there, filling the doorway and barring reentry, not moving even when Starscream aimed his chain gun at him.

"I will watch the sparklings while you recharge," Megatron said with uncharacteristic calm. "I just put Skywarp in his quarters. His berth has room for you both."

As if summoned by Megatron's words, on Starscream's HUD, the countdown appeared again, much shorter than it had previously, but this time- under an emergency directive- it locked into place so he couldn't dismiss it.

"No! No! The sparklings need me!" The Seeker tried to rake his talons over his optics in an attempt to make the countdown go away. Recharge didn't matter- nothing mattered- except no more dead sparklings so he had to stay, had to turn the countdown off! However, Megatron grabbed his hands before they could connect and pinned them against his own chest plating with one massive hand, keeping them there as the Decepticon leader used his free hand to pry open Starscream's external intake valve cover.

"_NO!_" Starscream howled, placing a pede against Megatron's armor, trying to use the leverage to break free as the other forced energon into the jet's tank. "I don't need it! Save it for them! NO!"

The Seeker hissed and snarled all manner of vulgarities, threatening the other, promising painful retribution as he tried to free himself even as his gears ground against one another and his joints locked in place to prevent injury. Circuits powering down, Starscream could only watch in horror as the countdown whittled down to zero and his internal shut down sequence fully activated without his consent, making his HUD run red, then white, then nothing as he knew no more.

* * *

A/N: Welcome to my ramble.

Sex Poll: Right! So, since more people don't usually read this section, I'll put this question at the top and hope some of you will respond to it.

At some point, sex between the Cybertronians is going to come up so the question becomes, what version thereof would you, dear reader, like to read/ see portrayed within the confines of this story? Now, for those of you new to the Transformers fanfiction genre and/or those new to the idea of robot sex (because, at some point, we all were O.o), Cybertronian sexual relations can be broken down into three main categories with variations:

Sticky!- which means that they have parts similar to ours a valve and/or a 'spike'

Plug-and-play (PnP)- use of a cable to connect both participants to overload

Spark!sex- spark melding/ bonding as a way to get off.

Depending on how the subject is handled in a story and what modifications are made accordingly, any can be plausibly done. Personally, I am of the school of thought that none of the Cybertronians have a specific gender though using he/she to refer to an individual is considerably less confusing than calling them all 'it'-even if it technically is accurate- so if Sticky! wins the vote, everyone's a hermaphrodite… which could get really interesting…. But, uh, wow in a totally inappropriate manner. Anyway, post your desire in a review. Whichever method gets the most votes wins, though I may modify it to better accommodate certain situations like for example our favorite trine, since their bonded on a whole other level.

Confessions:

Okay, so it looks like I, uh, goofed a bit. In ROTF, the base that the Fallen and the hatchlings are holed up in appears to be located on one of Saturn's moons, not Mars as I had originally thought. Furthermore, considering the size and features of the base in the movie, I'm willing to bet money that the base is supposed to be what remains of the Decepticon's star ship the Nemesis. Now, according to the IDW universe (I think), there is supposed to be what remains of a base on Mars where the whole 'Reign of Starscream' arc ends that is kinda the interlude between the two Transformers movies. For the purposes of this fic, since I've already stuck the damn thing on Mars, the base that Skywarp is at is, well, still on Mars but the base will not be as big as the one featured in the movie. It will still be associated with hatchling propagation and development but not on the same scale as the Nemesis and, because of this, it suffers from a lot of problems concerning resources, as we have seen. So, dear reader, if you have been imagining the base as the one in ROTF with the pods hanging from the ceiling beams like out of season Christmas decorations, then I'm going to have to burst your bubble and say, no, sorry, but I will do my best to describe it as the plot allows.

Oh, and um, also, when I began writing this I hadn't seen the second movie since it came out (even though I've own the damn DVD since it came out. Way to do your research, moron.), I was under the impression that certain aspects were in the movie when they were not. Case in point, Megatron's role previously on Cybertron, why he led an uprising, and an interesting tidbit about the whole Prime thing that is revealed in the last battle with the Fallen. As it turns out, the conversation (and other aforementioned factoids) I thought had happened in the ROTF movie aren't in the movie- they're in the IDW comic version of ROTF, which I also happen to own because I was kinda unhappy with the movie version of events.

What does this mean for the story?

In the IDW universe, Megaton fills a military position called High Lord Protector, a position consequently opposite to Optimus, who holds a more passive lead researcher rank. (Consequently, though Megatron seizes the artifact, its Optimus' archeological team that actually digs up the sarcophagus holding the imprisoned Fallen. I know, seems kinda thin to me too but, you know, sure. Whatever.) Though no one really goes into the specifics of the position's mandates and duties other than making sure Cybertron is safe from invasion, the 'High Lord Protector' job title is rather ambiguous but I assume that it meant more than just winning battles. As far as I am concerned, and you should be concerned, this means that there's more to the overall Megatron character than just the one-dimensional killing machine he is often portrayed as so please don't hurt me if he seems other than homicidal. Remember, the whole theme of the Transformer's universe is that _nothing is as it seems_ so characters will have both positive and negative personality qualities.

Speaking of character flaws… To spare you a line by line account, I shall summarize the lines of text I'm referring to for those of you who may not know what the hell I'm talking about. In the IDW comic, during the last battle between newly revived Optimus, Megatron, and the Fallen, it is revealed that one of the main reasons why Megatron follows the Fallen is due to a promise of power, specifically the power of a Prime. Optimus however reveals that Primes are born, not made, and that Megatron has been betrayed all this time.

Now, for those of you who aren't gasping in understanding, I'll lay it all out. This means that starting the war on Cybertron and everything that came after has been for nothing. The destruction of the All-spark. The lives lost on both sides. Megaton's personal sacrifices (and debatable loss of sanity because of following/ listening to the Fallen). All of it has absolutely no meaning because he did it all for an empty promise! He's doomed the Cybertronian race to the galactic endangered species list for entirely no benefit. Such a realization would leave a mark on anyone's psyche, human or mech, though whether it will be enough to cause a permanent change, we'll all just have to wait and see.

So, my bad, everyone, but I hoped that you all enjoyed the chapter. I'll try and keep the mix-ups to a minimum from now on.


	4. Chapter 4

Measurements

Hic- mile or kilometer (From the G1 continuity)

Hectometer- a metric unit of length equal to 100 meters

Cycle- minute

Nanoklick- second

Joor- hour

Language notes

Assume that when the mechs are talking amongst themselves that they are speaking their native language unless otherwise noted. In situations where multiple languages are present during a conversation, bold type (i.e., **"Cybertronian")** will be used to indicate the language. This will apply more to following chapters but I thought I'd warn you ahead of time.)

"Hi" = speaking

_~*Hi*~ _= trine link/bond talking

::Hi:: = radio

* * *

Special Note: This chapter is dedicated to my sweetie who has been my sounding board for the past week and has listened patiently to my plot problems. Love you darling!

* * *

Serendipity Chapter 4

Skywarp roused feeling considerably better than he had before recharging. Flipping through the crowd of alerts waiting for him on his HUD, he was pleased to find out that, not only had the pod's software been installed with no errors but his systems had adapted and were now back to running at their normal rates. There was also a new icon on his HUD that, when triggered, pulled up a detailed graphical display of a human body with areas lit to indicate damage. Curious, Skywarp inquiried a highlighted limb and received both a damage report and a repair status notation.

_Well that was…nifty, in a really gross kinda way… _Skywarp thought, disturbed as he watched the graphic's heart beat and the blood flow, the latter color-coded to indicate the level of oxygen saturation. The longer he watched it though, the more familiar it became, and, finally giving into his curiosity, Skywarp explored the graphic, watching the areas light-up, getting read-outs of the brain's low electrical activity and high opioid-like chemical saturation level. A quick alert informed him that he would need more supplies if the was going to keep the pod at its current refresh rate and Skywarp set a reminder to head back to Earth before everything ran out. After one last perusal of the graphic, the Seeker dismissed it but instead of vanishing altogether, it instead minimized to a considerably smaller window that took up residence in the lower right hand corner of his HUD, feeding him a constant stream of information about Sam's status.

Arching his dorsal line lazily, Skywarp onlined his optics, clicking happily and luxuriating in the sensation of just feeling so damn _good. _It felt as if a mild electrical current was being run through every fluid line, making his systems tingle, his sensornet veritably humming with pleasure, and Skywarp heard himself giggle as he stretched his arms wide. His digits touched familiar armor plating and the Seeker automatically rolled his head in the appropriate direction, smiling happily at Starscream until the sight made his good mood retreat significantly

Dry cleansing cloths sliding off his armor, Skywarp sat up and frowned at the state of the other Seeker's disrepair. It was hard to gauge the full extent because Starscream was laying dorsal side up but Skywarp could see the gunky build up of used oil and smell the soured hydraulic fluid clogging up the cabling along the back of the Air Commander's legs and knees. Both Starscream's wings and engine mounts were scuffed and scratched, as if he'd been laying on his back for long periods on a dirty floor, which was weird because the Seeker hated exposing his ventral plating unless necessary. Skywarp spied dried blue smears on the berth under the other Seeker and further investigation revealed that there was a thick layer of the material coating Starscream's front acting as an adhesive. A quick scan of the molecular make up of the goo told Skywarp what it was and, for a moment, he teetered emotionally between pity and revulsion before the latter won out.

_Primus, would it have offlined you to visit a washrack before crawling into my berth? _Disgusted, Skywarp picked up some of the cleaning cloths scattered around him and slid quietly off the berth, heading directly to the maintenance facility and soaking the cloth in cleanser. Bringing the dripping mass back to the berth, he wedged the strips of cloth as far under each side of Starscream as he could before fetching a chair. As he waited for the solvent to work and unglue the other enough so that Skywarp could get him into the maintenance area, the teleporter retrieved a few cleaning tools from a subspace pocket and began working on clearing the gunk he'd spotted earlier.

Why in the Pit Starscream didn't just invest in a small self repair bot like his trine-mates Skywarp didn't understand. Primus knew the Air Commander was vain enough to have a personal army of the slagging things.

Half a joor later, Starscream stirred, and the sudden abrupt awareness of what the Air Commander was feeling emotionally crashed into Skywarp as their bond automatically opened, triggered to their close physical proximity. A massive swell of despair, depression and sorrow slammed into his spark, the emotional tide so completely opposite from Skywarp's own buoyant emotional state that the assault literally knocked him off his chair, sending his tools scattering as he hit the floor, his intake fans clicking on and buzzing loudly in response to the phantom pain.

Mentally reeling, Skywarp scrambled to close the link and shut the other out. It took several cycles for Skywarp to gather himself but he did eventually manage to crawl to the berth and use the metal lip to pull his frame up.

"Primus, what _happened?_" Skywarp's vocalizer fritzed, making his voice thin and strained. The look in the silver Seeker's optics made Skywarp place a hand on Starscream's back, seeking and trying to impart comfort with the gesture as the dark Seeker braced himself and warily re-opened the bond between them. "Why are you so sad?"

_~*I can't do it anymore.*~_ Starscream's facial plates scrunched up, making him look lost. _~*They keep dying no matter what I do!*~_

Even after preparing himself for the emotional onslaught, having the link open made it hard for Skywarp to separate himself from his trine-mate. He narrowed it, keeping it open just enough so they could communicate with only a trickle of emotion threading through. When he was sure that the other Seeker's emotions wouldn't overwhelm his own, the teleporter resumed his previous position on the berth and forcibly dragged the Starscream's frame on top of his own.

He wrapped an arm tightly around Starscream's waist and let his free hand roam to tease over the exposed wings and the engine mounts, lingering until the latter switched on with a soft whirl of turbines. Skywarp nuzzled the Air Commander's audio finial, then the cables in his neck as Starscream relaxed enough to let the teleporter near the vulnerable spot.

Physical contact with one another was soothing and reassuring for Trines, a wordless demonstration of trust and care, and the more mentally wound up a trine-mate was, the more they would seek out the remaining pair, craving close contact. Most times it would lead to interfacing but Skywarp doubted that Starscream would welcome the idea given the emotional turmoil still leaking through from his side of the bond. That was okay though; interfacing brought all barriers crashing down until everything lay naked to each partner and Skywarp had his own secret to hide. Later though, after Sam was no longer an issue, Skywarp planned to overload Starscream into the next orn, longer if Thundercracker joined them in the meantime.

"I'm proud of you." Skywarp said, feeling the other jerk in surprise as first shame then murderous anger emanated from Starscream. The darker Seeker just ignored it, maintaining his peaceful state of mind as he continued to pet his now squirming trine-mate. "You're so strong, 'Screamer and you fight so hard… Anyone else would've thought they were a waste and let the sparklings die. You didn't! You fought for them, still fight for them, and I am so, so proud of you!"

Starscream remained rigid against him, emotions warring with one another from one extreme to the other in a chaotic mix, but Skywarp simply began running his hand over the other's wings again, wiggling his fingers under the flaps, teasing against the wiring there lightly. In response, the Air Commander's vents cycled on loudly, drawing more air in, and Skywarp could hear Starscream's fuel pump increase its rhythm.

"It's hard caring for the sparklings." The teleporter murmured gently, prying open the bond a bit, wanting the other feel his sincerity, his confidence in Starscream's ability to find an answer, to get through this. "I know because I can feel how hard you take each death, know how it hurts right down to the spark but…" Skywarp nuzzled the thick collar armor and soothed both hands over the other, making a circuit from Starscream's head down to his pelvic plating. "I also know it would hurt you worse if you abandoned them to starve to death just because you were in pain."

"I'm not as smart as you or Thundercracker. I just don't have the software to help with the technical stuff but I know you can do this and I'll help even if all I can do is give you a cuddle." Skywarp stilled his hands and simply held the other close. We're Trine, three parts of a whole. We support each other, through Primus or the Pit. Call me before it gets to be so overwhelming next time!"

Nodding mutely, Starscream shuddered and buried his head in the other's shoulder assembly, armor plates rattling in a cascade of noise as he clung to Skywarp tightly, as if afraid the other would vanish, a real possibility given Skywarp's abilities. As it was however considering the tacky mess between them, if the teleporter did warp, Starscream would be coming along for the ride whether he wanted to or not and the realization of this made Skywarp smile in amusement.

"Do you need to recharge some more?" Skywarp asked, his hands roaming again, touching and teasing anything his fingers brushed. In response, Starscream shook his head and, because Skywarp could feel the other gathering himself in preparation of the day, he gently closed the bond between them to give the other privacy. "'Kay. Then let's head for the maintenance room because I think I accidentally glued us together... "

"You what?! Skywarp you fragger!" Starscream tried to pull away and made a noise of distaste when he couldn't. He glared down at the other and made a move to smack him.

"I know, but you love me anyway." Skywarp ducked his head away, grinning as his trine-mate attempted to pry them apart.

"I suppose I do." Managing to put several inches of distance between them, Starscream vented loudly, making sounds of irritation, but he smiled, his optics no longer looking lost, and that was all Skywarp cared about.

"Good!" And with a wicked glint in his optics, Skywarp wrapped his arms around the other again, pulling Starscream back against him and undoing all the other's work at separation. The Air Commander squawked then began cursing, smacking at the teleporter to make him let go as Skywarp simply laughed and kept shouting, "Remember! You said you love me! Ouch! Remember you love me!"

* * *

"It doesn't look like food." Wheelie stated, picking up Mikaela's fork and poking at the confection, making it jiggle. "You know, it's almost hypnotic the way it moves…"

"I know." Mikaela murmured in reply, voice muffled because she was resting her chin on her arms, gaze intent on the little dome of lime green Jell-O on the plate in front of her. She poked it, hard, and watched its wobbly response, frowning to herself because no matter how much she played with it, the Jell-O wasn't giving her any answers.

Though they had been innocuous at the time, both Leo's comment about Jell-O and Wheelie's idea of cushioning haunted her with a persistence that was disturbing. Part of her was thoroughly convinced that, somehow, by studying something similar in design, she'd understand list of stolen goods and how it all related to the Decepticons abducting Sam. It all had to be connected, all of it, and the young women now felt compelled to understand the desert that seemed more toy than food item.

Unfortunately, playing with Jell-O hadn't revealed any insights into a reason why Decepticons would want something like it and, in irritation, Mikaela began pressing the little dome flat with the palm of her hand.

"So, uh," Wheelie began, cocking his head to one side as he watched her crush the desert. "What do you wanna do next after, you know, you're done playing with your food here?"

"Still plenty of places to explore." She said, straightening and grabbing a napkin to wipe green goo from her hand. "And since it's an island, there's always the beach." Wheelie muttered darkly about gears and sand not mixing. "Or we could keep working on the list…"

"Fat lot of good that's doing us." The small mech huffed dejectedly. The sad part was that he was correct; even though they now knew what each item was and what it was used for, they were no closer to finding any answers. Ratchet had been the one to help them identify everything but even he was stumped as to why the Decepticons would want any of it. The pervading fear had been that it was all for some new weapon but Ironhide had denied that, running the list of items through every possible combination and comparing it to the formulae of every chemical weapon known to both man and Cybertronian. So it wasn't a weapon, at least none that anyone had encountered before, but that was far from comforting to say the least.

None of it gave them a clue about where Sam was, either.

Mood sour, Mikaela picked up her tray and walked to the cafeteria's nearest trashcan to dump the contents. Initially she had been ecstatic to be going to N.E.S.T. headquarters but now she felt like a prisoner, trapped on the small island, unable to leave even to chase down leads because she was technically a civilian. It was maddening and infuriating but Lennox had said in no uncertain terms that she was not to leave the island under any circumstances and Optimus was backing the captain every step of the way.

_Protective custody my ass! _

Slamming the cleared tray on top of the wastebasket, Mikaela stalked from the cafeteria, Wheelie a comforting presence at her back as she decided to play her final card. There was one person on this base that everyone feared, that nobody dared to cross, and it just so happened that he had a soft spot for her. Turning down the hallway to the infirmary, Mikaela decided to appeal her case to Ratchet.

* * *

A curious combination of relief, jealousy and mild anxiety flowed continuously through their link and Skywarp, perched on a rolling chair, cocked his head to one side as he watched Starscream- his silver armor so clean he glowed in the light from the pods- bustle purposefully about the hatchery.

"So," Skywarp drawled, a finger idly doodling meaningless designs on the back of Starscream's wing as the Air Commander came within arm's reach."Megatron did good while babysitting?"

"'Baby…sitting?'" Starscream repeated slowly, looking up from making notes on the data pad in his grasp. "What is this 'baby' and why would one sit on it?"

"It's, uh, no you don't actually sit…" Skywarp honestly tried to keep his amusement concealed but knew he failed when his trine-mate scowled. "A baby is the human equivalent of our sparklings-"

"And they _sit _on them?!" Starscream asked, genuinely appalled. "Primitive backwater organics! Why would they sit on their young?! It is a wonder they have not doomed themselves to extinction with their stupidity… Why are you laughing? Skywarp, get off the floor and answer my question! I demand an answer _so stop laughing you idiot!_"

Skywarp could only hug his chest, his intakes hurting as they heaved, his vocalizer shorting out, as he sprawled on his back on the floor, grinning up at his trine-mate. _~*No, 'Screamer, they don't actually sit on them. It's a term they use to describe instances when parents- progenitors- must have their sparklings cared for by a proxy!*~_

Optics narrowed, Starscream became thoughtful as he considered this information. "Yes, Megatron did very well fulfilling my role during my absence."

"You don't sound happy." Skywarp murmured gently, trailing his hand gently up and down the other's shin plating as he spoke through the bond. _~*Are you upset that he had no problems with the sparklings?*~_

_~*No! Lord Megatron…*~_ Emotions all tangled in a knot, Starscream shifted from foot to foot, one hand groping at the air as if he could pull a viable argument from it. Skywarp trilled soothingly, continuing to run his hand up and down the Air Commander's leg, content to wait for an answer. _~*I… No! A little…Yes…?*~_

Skywarp nodded, unsurprised and simply accepting of the answer as he turned his head to look up at the ceiling, reaching up with his unoccupied hand to gently touch the rounded ridge of one talon to the underside of the closest pod. "They look like little stars, little suns."

"I know." Starscream murmured softly but through the bond a grief tainted image of lights simply vanishing floated, prompting Skywarp to carefully get to his feet and cross the minimal distance separating the two Seekers physically.

"It'll be okay." The teleporter said, pulling the other into a tight hug and nuzzling Starscream's closest audio finial as he trilled lowly, the sound sending a vibration through their thoracic cavities. "Everything else works, right? It's only the energon that's a problem, right? So all we need to do is find some and the sparklings are all good!"

Starscream's intakes cycled loudly in a sigh and he patted Skywarp on the head in a blatantly patronizing manner but through the bond anger roiled, prickling at the darker Seeker's spark like needles. "Yes, 'Warp, all we need to do is find some energon. Why don't you go get some from mountainous pile we have outside?"

Skywarp stuck his lower labial plating out in a pout as he pulled back enough to look the other in the optic. "No need to get angry. I was just trying to sum up the problem…"

"I know." Starscream vented again, armor plates fluttering in a cascade as he tried to calm down. Skywarp waited, listening to the clicks and hum as the Air Commander ran through a system's check. "Your assessment is correct; there are no problems with the sparklings other than providing them all with enough energon to develop properly. This is little comfort however since we are currently stuck in a solar system with no energon and no means for refining it enough even if he we did have some."

Optics on the pods, Skywarp hummed in thought as he pulled the other close again, swaying them both gently from side to side. "Energon's just a fuel, right? What about other fuels? Could we use other fuels?"

Starscream's head thunked loudly onto Skywarp's shoulder assembly as he spoke, his tone saying plainly that he was reaching the end of his patience talking about this. "We would still need to refine it."

"Okay, so if we found a suitable fuel and refined it, could we use it then?" Skywarp persisted, unwilling to let the subject go.

The Air Commander pushed at him, the bond slamming shut between them as Starscream tried to pull away both physically and emotionally. "The sparklings are fragile and their delicate systems are only able to use highly refined energon. Anything else would be poisonous and terminate them all. Now, you're getting underfoot. Have you killed Witwicky yet?"

Skywarp had been dreading this moment. If he lied, his trine-mate would sense it immediately and so he chose his words carefully as he stepped away, one pede scuffing the floor. "Uh… Not exactly…"

"Good." Starscream said, striding away, his attention back on his data pad and the pods.

The teleporter stared after him, somehow knowing he was not going to like where this conversation went. "Good?"

"Yes," And when Starscream turned around, his expression was absolutely feral. "When you find him, comm. me and then teleport him right here, to me, so that I can watch his organic flesh explode!"

Starscream could be a spiteful, vengeful thing at times when he felt wronged. The same could be said about all three Seekers but the level of violence and brutality in the images that suddenly assaulted Skywarp through the bond was overwhelming! And Primus, the _rage!_ The sheer hatred and overwhelming anger that boiled through the link bordered on pure madness! It made Skywarp grabbed his cranial plating as his emotional circuits began to overheat from the effort to process it all.

Where had that level of bloodlust come from and how could Starscream handle it with such casual ease when Skywarp could feel himself begin to fritz from the strain of just that little glimpse?

He had never been afraid of Starscream before but, in that moment, Skywarp's spark quailed in absolute terror because no sane mech could exist in such a headspace without becoming psychotic!

_Thundercracker! _Thundercracker was smarter than Skywarp- he would know what to do! Hastily Skywarp shut the bond between himself and Starscream then strained to reach out to Thundercracker, sending his fear screaming down the link along with a quick plea for help about their trine-mate's tenuous grip on sanity. He didn't receive a verbal reply, just a dim stab of surprise, but Skywarp knew that Thundercracker would respond properly once he was able.

"Skywarp, what is wrong?" Starscream asked, all traces of malice disappearing as if it had never been. He frowned and approached, and Skywarp retreated as fast as he could away, optics never leaving the other as the Air Commander slowly pursued. The chase ended in the doorway to the hatchery as Starscream stopped just inside the doorway and cocked his head at Skywarp standing in the corridor outside. "Skywarp what is the matter?"

"I, uh," The darker Seeker struggled to come up with an excuse that would legitimately allow him to get away from the other. "I just remembered I had something to do. I'll see you later!"

He waved at the other and left, having to fight not to either teleport or run as he hurried down the hallway and…ran right into Megatron. Again. Skywarp groaned before he could stop himself, rubbing his cranial plating where it had connected with the other's chest armor as he sank to one knee in a low bow. "I apologize, my Lord."

And then he waited because that was the only safe option.

"Get up, Skywarp." Megatron growled, plainly irritated. The Seeker stood as fast as possible but that did nothing to clear the annoyance from Megatron's expression and Skywarp mentally braced himself for the pain to begin as the Decepticon Leader's hand came down…And merely settled firmly on the teleporter's shoulder assembly. No crushing followed- using his grip, Megatron merely steered the Seeker down an off-shoot from the main corridor they had been in until the pair reached an airlock.

No air to vibrate meant no screaming could be heard and Skywarp couldn't fight the shiver the thought sent through him as his fuel pump increased its tempo, raising his overall fluid pressure. On his HUD, the icon for the pod began to flash, an alert appearing that warned him of the negative aspects of the action on Sam.

_Stupid squishy!_ Skywarp thought angrily as he dismissed the alert, warp drive primed for escape as he watched his leader for any indication of attack. _As fragile as a sparkling…_

An idea began to form in his processor but before it could solidify into something tangible, Megatron began speaking.

"Grindor has been located by N.E.S.T. and a team is moving in to terminate him." A set of coordinates appeared on Skywarp's HUD via the Decepticon , quickly followed by several more sets. "Soundwave has located several others as well. Head to Earth and bring them all back here before the Autobots find them."

"…Yes, sir." Skywarp agreed, confused as Megatron spurred him forward with a light pat on his shoulder. Weirded out by the significantly non-homicidal behavior, he stepped into the airlock warily, wirelessly triggering the system and listening to the inner door hermetically seal itself behind him before the outer door spiraled open. The vast empty red plains of Mars stretched out before him, dust puffing up as he walked into the sun-scorched expanse, and in the distance Skywarp could see a massive dust storm brewing.

It was entirely possible that Soundwave had already alerted Megatron to the storm heading their way but, just to be sure, Skywarp radioed his leader anyway. ::My Lord, a storm is approaching the base several hics wide. I estimate that it will reach the base in roughly two joors. I should be able to get everyone back here safely within the time window but if I am delayed, I will be unable to return until the storm passes.::

He didn't expect an answer and practically jumped when he received one. ::How much of a danger does the storm pose?::

Skywarp wasn't sure in what capacity Megatron meant but he tried to sum it up to hit all the major points, one pede toeing the ground. This was… bizarre. ::Well, the storm is generating enough electrostatic electricity to cause lightening strikes which is kicking up even more dust. The dust itself is corrosive and I'd recommend shutting down the ventilation system temporarily or at least increase the sensitivity level internal scrubbers to keep it away from the pods. If the storm gets bad enough- and really, I think it's going to be because I'm looking at a tornado a hectometer tall- we could lose communications and proximity sensors for a while so the base'll literally be blind and deaf.::

::Will the storm interfere with your teleportation ability?:: Megatron asked. His tone was mild, not irritated as Skywarp had feared, and the Seeker felt himself strangely disturbed by the almost-concerned lilt.

::It, uh, could, my Lord.:: If Skywarp had had the ability, he would have been sweating. ::If the landing ground significantly changes in ways that I am unaware or unable to account for, I and my passenger could reappear partially inside an object.::

He's had a few near misses in the past and had bad memory purges for vorns after each time of reappearing half in and half out of a bulkhead. It would be a horrible way to terminate, slow and painful depending on exactly how he rematerialized, and was the top place holder on Skywarp's personal list of Ways Never to Terminate.

::Then you had best get a move on.:: Megatron said in that mild tone.

Taking the statement as a veiled threat, Skywarp pulled up the first set of coordinates, altered them slightly before locking in his destination and vanished from the surface of Mars.

* * *

A/N:

Very sorry about the late chapter but the damn thing just didn't want to end! I finally had to just cut it off at the knees otherwise it would be well over twenty pages long so please forgive the mild cliff hanger. I'm going to forgo my normal rambling because I'm a bit pressed for time but I will ask for reviews. Because they're reassuring that, you know, I'm not imaging that I have actual readers…

Special thanks to everyone who answered the sex poll and cookies to those who felt weird about it and did it anyway!


	5. Chapter 5

Measurements

Hic- mile or kilometer (From the G1 continuity)

Hectometer- a metric unit of length equal to 100 meters

Cycle- minute

Nanoklick- second

Joor- hour

Language notes

Assume that when the mechs are talking amongst themselves that they are speaking their native language unless otherwise noted. In situations where multiple languages are present during a conversation, bold type (i.e., **"Cybertronian")** will be used to indicate the language.

"Hi" = speaking

_~*Hi*~ _= trine link/bond talking

::Hi:: = radio

* * *

Warnings for this chapter:

Skywarp occasionally behaves like an empty headed sugar-hyped pre-teen in this chapter because circumstances agitate some of his greatest weaknesses, namely his insatiable curiosity, his limited attention span, and impulsive behavior. Also, since his experience on Earth is very limited, almost everything is new (and bright and shiny…) including N.E.S.T. so if he hasn't directly encountered something, he probably hasn't bothered to access information on it.

At some point, please read the (lengthy *wince*) Author's Notes at the end before leaving because it does reveal how some plot elements will be handled within the story.

* * *

Serendipity Chapter 5

* * *

With a _crack!_ Skywarp appeared a thousand feet in the air above Grindor's location atop a large department store in downtown New York City and fired his thrusters to remain hovering in the air. He watched with some amusement as several humans on the rooftop below dressed in black jumped, scattering for cover behind low partitions and skylights.

::**Make them any jumpier and they're going to start shooting**.:: Grindor grumbled unhappily, rotor blades twitching though the rest of him remained still as he sat in his altmode atop the roof of the building.

Rolling his shoulder assemblies in a shrug, Skywarp landed gently on the roof, cocking his head as he peered over the side and looked up the tall buildings poking the sky, the glass reflecting the grey cloudy sky perfectly to create the illusion that all was the same. **"Oh wow! It's almost like Iacon…"**

"**Skywarp?!"**

Skywarp automatically searched for the source of the voice then trilled in delight when he found the owner staring at him from behind the cubical housing for one of the building's large air conditioning units.

"**Arcee!!" **He waved at the small blue form excitedly and ignored Grindor's groan of disgust. **"Hi, Arcee! I didn't know you were here, too!"**

Clicking and whirling, the faux helicopter transformed into his bipedal mode, armor plates fluttering and locking into place as he came to stand beside the Seeker. **"Megatron know you're out without supervision?"**

"**Hey!" **Skywarp shoved him in the chest, angry. **"No need to be mean! I came to help but I didn't know Arcee was gonna be here! I was just told that some bird house nest thing was!"**

"**How in the name of Primus are you still online?" **Grindor put a hand to his cranial plating, his free hand rising to point his forearm machine gun at Arcee. **"N.E.S.T. is a military collaboration between Earth's governments and the Autobots. If N.E.S.T. is around, a 'Bot is sure to be here, too. Now, whatever your history is with her, forget it because she's your enemy." **

Skywarp glared at the other Decepticon and grabbed the weapon, forcing it skyward before turning to look at Arcee and the group of humans near her again mournfully. **"Hey, Arcee, I got to go. It was nice seeing you again. Maybe we can go flying again later?"**

Emerging fully from her hiding spot, the smaller mech rolled forward cautiously, approaching them. **"'Warp, I'm sorry but I can't let you leave here. If you come quietly, though, I'm sure Optimus will be lenient."**

Skywarp visibly wilted, disappointed, and Grindor awkwardly patted the slightly shorter Seeker's head.

"**It's a war, Skywarp." **The helicopter's tone was patient and gentle, two qualities he rarely showed. **"There is no time out and there is no playing with the enemy. We're Decepticons and she's an Autobot and you can't play with them like you did before the war. Didn't Starscream or Thundercracker explain this to you?"**

"**I forgot." **Skywarp said sullenly because, for that moment, he honestly had forgotten that they were all trying to kill one another.

He hadn't seen Arcee since before the conflict began on Cybertron so had never seen her before in combat and it was odd seeing how different she was now compared to all those vorns ago. She was still petite, was probably still using her speed as her greatest weapon, but it was obvious that she also had a lot of modifications and upgrades since. Little 'Bots didn't last long on the battle field without a lot of armor and weapons that packed a wallop scary enough to keep the bigger mechs from either stomping on her or pulling her to pieces. He thought that she had come a long way from the small eager to prove herself archeologist he'd teased and each off duty shift, needling her temper as she dug in the dirt, bragging about how much fun flying was instead. He remembered how during an argument she'd been winning, he'd settled the dispute by grabbing her and jumping into space. He still had the audio file of the terrified scream she'd made upon re-entry as well as the first ecstatic cry of joy she'd made solars later when he'd honored her determined request to take her up again. They'd gone a couple more times, all of which had been fun, and seeing her so unexpectedly had brought up all the good memories from before the war. It made his spark ache with sadness from the realization that those times were truly gone now, never to be repeated due to the animosity between the two factions.

Depressed, he cycled his intakes loudly as he tightened his grip on Grindor's arm just as Arcee and the N.E.S.T. team charged toward them, teleporting the other Decepticon to the base without another word.

"**I know it's hard…"** Grindor began once the reappeared on Mars but Skywarp shoved him toward the outer airlock door.

Though he knew that the helicopter wasn't at fault, in that moment the Seeker hated him with every wire in his frame.

"**Save it!" **Skywarp snarled harshly before pulling up the next set of coordinates on his HUD and teleporting away.

Getting Grindor had taken only ten cycles but Skywarp felt compelled to hurry with his task. He had initially assumed that the storm would pass in a few joors but further reading on the subject proved that some storms on Mars lasted for several terrestrial months and he had no desire to be separated from Starscream for such a length of time even if it meant being cooped up inside a tin can of a base. He collected Hightower, Overload and Hook with little fanfare, simply warped in next to them, grabbed hold of his target and waved at the Autobots as he warped out. At each location where they were actually present, the N.E.S.T. teams were still moving into position so no battle was actively underway, thankfully, which made Skywarp's job all the easier.

He was not so lucky when he tried to retrieve Scavenger, however, who did not seem to be fairing well after being separated from the rest of his gestalt.

"**Scavenger,"** Skywarp said gently, following behind the twitchy smaller mech through the narrow pathways winding between the piles of assorted junk cluttering up the large barn that Scavenger had claimed as a home. Three of the interior walls of the barn were painted different colors- blue green and yellow- and the forth wall's color was hidden behind a display of barrels arranged in a distracting mosaic. The barrels were the same colors as the other walls and the teleporter could make nothing of the design looking at it directly. Skywarp didn't have time to really look for the pattern however, too busy ducking the decorations above. Large pieces of metal hung from the ceiling at odd intervals and at varying heights, forcing the Seeker to hunch slightly as he moved and he had to scramble to keep a pile of books from tumbling as his elbow brushed past it. The place was a death trap! **"You can't stay here! Just pick a few of your favorites already…"**

"**No! I won't leave them!"** The red and white mech stopped and picked up… something, cuddling it protectively as if afraid Skywarp would take it away at any second. **"It's mine! They're mine! I won't go and you can't make me!"**

Skywarp's left supraorbital ridge rose as the right dipped and he pressed his labial plates together to stop the contradiction forming in his vocalizer. He did allow himself to fold his arms across his thoracic cavity, though, and simply stared at Scavenger silently until the other ducked his head with a plaintive whine.

In-venting loudly, Skywarp picked up what appeared to be a small cargo container and held it out to him. **"We will be leaving in half a joor. Pick out what possessions you absolutely cannot live without and place them in this for transport. If it cannot fit then it cannot come and if you fight me on this, Scavenger, you get nothing. Half a joor! Take it or leave it."**

"**But, but…"** Scavenger hastily took the container once it looked like Skywarp was going to chuck it over his shoulder and simply grab the Constructicon. **"But what about Mixmaster?"**

"**He's here? Where?" **Skywarp's optic scanned the area for the missing Decepticon. If Mixmaster was here, then Starscream's records were wrong and Devastator could still be formed. It was odd though; 'Screamer was usually very thorough when taking account of who had been terminated and had cursed loudly about the loss.

"**Here!"** Scavenger burbled, running off and quickly being lost to sight behind an impressive stack of forks nearly as tall as Skywarp. With a sigh, the Seeker plodded forward carefully, head down, his arms raised high as he made his way to the other end of the warehouse where Scavenger was standing next to a large cement mixer. **"Look 'Mixer! It's Skywarp and he's here to take us to base. See? I told you we hadn't been abandoned! C'mon, say 'hi' Mixmaster!"**

A quick scan revealed that it was nothing but an ordinary Earth vehicle. **"Uh…"**

"**He's just shy." **Scavenger said apologetically, grinning a little crookedly at the teleporter as he swatted the mixer's grille. Skywarp had to keep his facial plates smooth as he eyed the resulting dent sadly. **"He'll talk later, once we're all at base. So, half a joor huh? 'Kay!"**

Cargo container held in his shovel like-hand, Scavenger scurried off and disappeared into one of the larger piles, causing a minor avalanche of dented bicycles, tin cans, broken tools and various other unidentifiable objects to fall behind him. Several other nearby piles quivered ominously and Skywarp promptly decided that waiting inside would be hazardous to his continued functioning. Moving quickly but carefully, the teleporter beat a hasty retreat out of the barn and into the sun-baked yard surrounding the building.

Exiting, he nearly tripped over a well-fed four legged animal that had come to nibble at the stack of plant matter near the barn's entrance. In a less than graceful display of balance, Skywarp managed to shift his weight back in time to raise his leading foot enough to bypass the animal safely as he stepped over it. Proving that it was more intelligent than the Cybertronian would have given it credit for, the animal didn't panic or attempt to flee as he passed overhead though it did turn to look at him as the jet turned to squat down close by.

The animal paused in its chewing, raised its snout and made a low noise.

Curious, Skywarp cocked his head and mimicked the sound.

The animal seemed to take this as an invitation and came closer, its sturdy black and white mass not even a fraction of the Seeker's considerable bulk. It sniffed at his talons and chin when he leaned in to scan it and made that sound again when he ran a finger along its spine. Growing more confident with how to handle the animal, Skywarp returned the sound as he pet the creature with firmer strokes along its bristly skin, startled when the animal moved forward to press itself against his shin armor. He could feel its heart beating and its body heat, the sensors of his armor detecting both easily, and after much thought Skywarp decided he wasn't bothered by the sensation of either. The Seeker stretched his wings, fanning them out and enjoyed the warm light that bathed his dark armor. It felt good- relaxing- and, after a quick proximity scan, the teleporter settled in to soak up as much of the radiation as he could into his cold frame.

"**You're a good cow,"** He told the animal after capturing a visual of the beast and checking the image against animals on the internet. The cowl made that low sound again- a _moo_, his processor noted- and leaned more solidly against the Seeker. **"Even if you do have a parasite."**

"**It's not a parasite!" **Scavenger protested, peering out of the barn's entrance and glaring before he continued speaking in an obnoxious tone. **"Melosa's gonna have a baby, just like Alicia!"**

"**Who's Alicia?" ** Skywarp asked just as a peripheral sensor was tripped, alerting him that a human was quickly approaching the yard in a flat bed truck.

Scavenger came out of the barn completely at her approach, ducking slightly through the doorway and waving. **"That's Alicia. She owns this property and sells my artwork!"**

Sounding both proud and smug, the excavator puffed out his armor plating as he said the last, and Skywarp felt himself smile at the display. The Seeker had never been much of an art admirer, much to his trine-mates' exasperation, but he tried to appear interested as Scavenger gestured to what Skywarp had assumed were human lawn ornaments littering the ground near the other end of the barn. He supposed that the pieces could be objects of admiration to humans but Skywarp didn't get it- they only looked like hunks of scrap metal twisted into fanciful shapes embellished with human trash to him. Thinking that maybe Starscream or Thundercracker would appreciate the 'artwork' better, he took several still images and filed them away before turning his attention back to the human vehicle.

The truck turned to the right several yards away then began backing up slowly toward the barn, the cow and the pair of Cybertronians. The vehicle came to a stop, the engine cutting out and ticking as it cooled, and out of the cab stepped a petite, dark haired woman. She wore thick stained gloves, heavy boots and was dressed in a set of overalls, the cloth of which was smeared with grease and stretched prominently over the area of her stomach. Fearlessly, she walked right up to Scavenger and leaned against his shin, eying Skywarp curiously before craning her neck to look up the long line of the Constructicon's body and speaking in a language Skywarp hadn't encountered yet. Scavenger responded, his vocalizer easily mimicking the necessary accents to converse with the human, and tired of being left out of the conversation, the Seeker poked around the internet until he found the appropriate language program.

After checking for viruses, he uploaded the software and translated the conversation, a bit surprised at the easy familiarity between them as they discussed a recent transaction Alicia had brokered for one of Scavenger's pieces- apparently it had fetched a tidy sum and she wanted to know what supplies he needed.

Against his leg, Melosa mooed again and, without thought, Skywarp mooed back as he patted her shoulder assembly lightly.

"And this is Skywarp! He's a jet and he's new to Earth so don't laugh but he thinks you and Melosa have parasites!" Scavenger finished his ramble, clicking and snickering in amusement. Without warning, the excavator dipped down to scoop the human up into his humanoid hand and, though the movement was quick, it was carried out with obvious care for the fragile organic creature. The Seeker expected her to scream or panic but much as Melosa had with nearly being stepped on, Alicia seemed to take it all in stride, steadying herself automatically in the Cybertronian's grasp as Scavenger held her out to the teleporter. Skywarp who took her warily, using both hands to hold her since he'd nearly dropped Sam by using only one- that, and because he was certain Scavenger, possessive as he was, would use his shovel like hand to inflict great bodily harm if Skywarp harmed her.

"Hi." Skywarp said uncertainly in greeting, scanning her then shifting his optics to look at Scavenger as she watched, clearly amused. The Seeker detected a shift in pressure and temperature drop against his shin and watched through his peripheral sensor arrays as Melosa ambled away toward a patch of grass growing near a piece of Scavenger's sculptures.

Shifting his attention back to Alicia, he scanned her again, frowning. "I know a baby is the term they use for their young but why is it _inside_ her and not in a pod?"

The Constructicon leaned over them, smiling at Alicia before laying a steady finger very lightly on the bulge in her form. "Humans carry their young _internally_! They don't need pods because the mother's body provides everything their sparklings need to grow! Isn't it fascinating? Oh, here, quick you can feel it kicking!"

Doing as he was told, Skywarp could not only feel the baby kicking but also hear its heartbeat, a quick flutter that was nearly completely hidden beneath the steady rhythm of its mother's. Prompted by this abrupt introduction to human reproduction, the Seeker triggered an audio feed from the pod, comparing Sam's slow heartbeat to both Alicia's and her offspring's. Inexplicably wanting more information on how exactly an internal pod worked, Skywarp began fiddling with his visual display settings and sensors until he was able to actually watch the baby moving around.

Cocking his head, Skywarp asked, "Why does it have three legs? Aren't humans only supposed to have two?"

"Three…" Scavenger repeated then let out a loud unhappy whine. "Aw, 'Warp, you spoiled the surprise!"

"So," Alicia said, smiling and smoothing her hands over the bulge with obvious affection. "David it is then."

"What?" Skywarp asked, confused, looking from human to mech as he researched what 'David' meant. "What does its designation have to do with the number of legs it has?"

Alicia laughed and patted Skywarp's palm, smiling up at him. "It has to do gender, which Scavenger says your people don't have. Don't worry about it and thank you. Scavenger's been here a few months and wouldn't tell me if the baby was a boy or a girl."

"Did it matter if it was one or the other?" Skywarp asked, still confused about the entire issue and hating it.

The human tilted her head, lips pursing as she took a moment to think about her answer before finally shaking her head in the negative. "No, not really. I'd love either equally. That's what good mothers do."

Still not understanding, Skywarp simply nodded as he handed her carefully back to Scavenger before standing and cycling his vents loudly. The half a joor he'd set as a time limit was almost up but it was clear that Scavenger was going to need more time to say good bye to his human companion. Wondering when he'd become so soft-sparked, the Seeker decided to give Scavenger more time while Skywarp went to collect his remaining targets instead. He should still have enough time before the storm hit to allow the delay but he probably shouldn't push it, not when months of separation was the price…

An alert popped up, reminding him that he had to get supplies for Sam. Well, _Pit,_ if he was going to get everything he needed and find everyone before the storm overtook the base, Skywarp was going to have to get going immediately.

"**You have fifteen cycles, Scavenger. I'll be back in a bit."** Skywarp folded his wings back into their original placement and unlocked his knee servos so he could stand upright. Calling up the next set of coordinates, he took a few steps back as a safety precaution even though he had his field set only to transport himself. Resetting one of his teleportation algorithms,Skywarp vented heavily at the low fuel warning dancing across his HUD before canceling it before returning to the task at hand, promising himself a nice long recharge once it was over. Rubbing his cheek plating, the Seeker belatedly remembered his manners and looked at the Scavenger's human, nodding at her. "Nice meeting you, Alicia**.**"

With a _crack!_ he vanished.

* * *

Considering that they were all on an island with only limited places to go, it took a surprisingly long time to find the hospital wing and an even longer time to explain her argument to Ratchet.

"No."

Mikaela couldn't help it- she stomped her foot as she glared up at him hard enough that by all rights should have caused the large mech to burst into flames. This was unbelievable! "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no." Ratchet said calmly, never looking away from the shiny metal table he was currently scrubbing down. "If both Lennox and Optimus have ordered you to remain here, then it is for your benefit and safety."

Reaching past the massive medical lighting fixture installed in the ceiling, he grasped a low hanging nozzle to pour more solvent on the clean surface. The excess liquid flowed over the edge into the catch trays lining each side and, though she couldn't see it, the teenager could hear it as the liquid gurgled through the floor's drainage system. Due to its size, Mikaela guessed that the table had to be for Cybertronian use but she couldn't help the chill that went through once she realized why the design bothered her. No matter where she stood or how she looked at it, the damn table still looked like the ones always shown in crime drama morgues with dead bodies on them.

Unbidden, the image of Sam lain out over the cold surface covered only by a white sheet came to mind and Mikaela stomped it down, gritting her teeth against the accompanying tears. She would not cry! She would _not_, damn it! Sam was alive and he was counting on her to save him! The young woman fisted her hands and tightened them, focusing on the sensation of her skin straining over her knuckles, the sting of her cuts from earlier, the pull of the Band-Aid adhesive as it strained to stay in place, the ache in her forearms as the muscles coiled in response. She fought to slow her breathing, hearing the air flow in and out of her lungs, forcing it past the weight that seemed to have settled in her chest. She shuddered, the urge to cry dispersing slowly, and released her fists, having to work her fingers a bit to get the blood flowing. Of course, now that she was calmer, the restlessness, the need to actually do something had returned with a vengeance and Mikaela looked at the wall to her left and the human sized shelves lined in front of it.

"Now you've done it…" Wheelie muttered from where he sat off to the side atop a toolbox, mistaking her expression and behavior as anger. The young mech rolled his head and then rested it heavily in his small hands. "You just had to be condescending."

"I was not condescending… Mikaela, put that down!" Ratchet had turned slightly to be able to look at the former Decepticon and, in doing so, spotted the young woman as she walked over to an array of tools the CMO had laid out and picked up a heavy duty battery powered drill. Mikaela ignored the order, instead fastening a large bit in the machine as she spoke, casually pocketing a few more.

Though her tone remained calm and business-like, her insides seemed to burn with anger and she relished in it, letting it warm her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Adrenaline poured through her system, making everything almost too bright, too sharply in focus to really see as her heart pounded away, the force of which was so hard, it was threatening to give her a headache. The sensation was familiar and welcome, reassuring her even as part of her struggled to comprehend the idea that she was priming itself to do battle against _Autobots._ Since that part wasn't helpful, she mentally stomped it down as she picked up a claw hammer and swung it to get a feel for the weight before threading it through a belt loop.

Nobody was leaving her out of the fight- **nobody!-** and it was time to remind them of that.

_Optimus and Lennox can take their protective custody and shove it up their ass!_

When she spoke, it unintentionally came out a snarl. "I flew across the country- again- to find Sam because you guys pulled Bumblebee away for an assignment. I _thought_ that once I'd met up with you guys, we'd chase down the lead _I_ brought you. Instead, I've been sidelined because I'm a _mechanic_, not a soldier, but that's not good enough because since the Decepticons have resurfaced, I'm a fucking prisoner on this island!"

She realized she was panting and forced herself to calm down. In a much more controlled manner, she continued. "I understand that stopping the Decepticons is important and I'm all for killing them and Megatron again but that doesn't mean I'm going to allow Sam to get lost in the priority shuffle." She took a breath and watched Ratchet carefully when she spoke as casually as possible. "I know that something happened between you guys and Sam."

_There!_ It was so much harder to read Cybertronian expression since they were a much more subtle species but her concentration was rewarded when Ratchet's optics suddenly shone brighter in surprise, his lips pressing together in a firm line as he fought to keep his expression neutral and failed.

It was both sad and nice to know to know her instincts hadn't failed her. Mikaela wasn't sure of the details but something had happened between Sam and the Autobots to trigger a sudden need for distance between both parties, some sort of falling out that had put a complete halt to the plans of him moving to the island base after Egypt. Whatever had caused the rift had to have been extreme enough that Sam was willing to brave the hostile atmosphere of school rather than be among the protective embrace of the Cybertronians. Sam refused to talk about it to her or anyone and would close down completely if she tried to get anything Autobot related out of him beyond information concerning Bumblebee, who had returned to the school with Sam. The lack of information had been maddening, especially so when she could see that her boyfriend looked so miserable and battered as he threw himself into his studies to keep from thinking on whatever had gone so horribly wrong.

But Ratchet knew what had happened and now he thought she knew which meant that, if she could keep the bluff going, he might be willing to talk to her about it later.

"You guys go kill Decepticons," She said, trying to sound resolute and not excited or smug. "I'll go back to New Jersey and turn Princeton inside out to make sure the Decepticons didn't set up a secret camp there. Would be just like the buggers- bet the engineering department wouldn't even notice. Too busy drooling over the mech Holy Grail."

Ratchet's facial features turned mocking as he folded his arms over his chest. "And the drill? How is that going to help you leave the island or find Sam?"

"Drills are very useful." Mikaela smiled sweetly and, out the corner of her eye, she saw Wheelie dive behind his seat for cover. "For instance, I can use it to remove the brackets for a door which makes the lock keeping it locked useless. Also, a drill can be a very effective information gathering method."

"Mikaela!" It was clear that Ratchet was less than approving of her last comment.

She looked up at him defiantly, her anger returning in a warm rush. "I am not an Autobot Ratchet. I'm human and we have a tendency to use violence very effectively when we want something. Besides, not like it would be the first time I've used tools for things they weren't intended."

_Like using an electric hand saw to decapitate that freak Frenzy._

"Wait," Ratchet's optics shuttered off as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're going to unscrew your way off Diego Garcia then rescue Sam from whoever has him, be they humans or Decepticons, armed only with a drill?"

"You're right. Can I borrow your electric hand saw?"

"No." His voice was firm.

"Fine." Mikaela rolled her eyes at him then waved dismissively. "See you later, Ratch. Thanks to my list- which no one seems to think is of any help now that we know it's not a weapon- I've got a kleptomaniac teleporting Decepticon to go find, a university to tear apart and a boyfriend to rescue…"

Though she was familiar with the Cybertronians, Mikaela had forgotten how _fast_ one of them could move, especially the bigger, bulkier mechs like Ratchet. It simply seemed to defy logic that someone that big could cross the distance between them in near silence. It wasn't fair and she barely even heard him before he was suddenly in front of her, barring her path with his foot. "Why do you think the Decepticon responsible for Sam's disappearance is capable of teleportation?"

Mikaela craned her neck and pulled the trigger on the drill absently, making it spin as she debated her answer. "Wheelie gave me the idea after Leo picked us up at the airport. He said that the times of the thefts are too close together but not close enough to be a coordinated Decepticon attack and I remembered how Jetfire got us from the U.S. to Egypt in ten seconds."

"Wheelie did?" Ratchet's attention shifted momentarily to the mech in question. Realizing he was being stared at, the small mech came out of his hiding spot.

"Yeah. So?" The picture of petulance with his arms crossed over his chest, Wheelie glared at the CMO challengingly even as his armor rattled from fear.

Making the drill bit twirl again, Mikaela drew Ratchet's attention back to her. "I take it you know who I'm looking for?"

For a horrible moment, she thought he wouldn't tell her, that he would deliberately withhold the information in some misguided attempt to protect her just like Lennox and Optimus. But then Ratchet vented loudly and bent down, offering her his hand. She held out for a minute but eventually did climb into his palm and, once she was settled, he carried her over to the giant morgue table. It took a lot self control but she did eventually leave his hand and stood on the mirror-like surface while Ratchet took a seat as well.

"The ability is very rare and was so even before the war began. Currently, there are only two possible Decepticons still online capable of teleporting and only one of them would be foolish enough to grab Sam."

Far below, Wheelie groaned. "Please don't let it be who I think it is. Primus, please!"

Finding the sound weirdly soothing, Mikaela triggered the drill again, her expression grim as her heart pounded. She licked her suddenly dry lips, flashbacks of the final battle in Egypt haunting her. "I don't care how bad-ass he is. If he's got Sam, then he better look out for me."

"And your drill." Ratchet said seriously, making Mikaela frown up at him because she knew he was making fun of her.

"See how you like it when I drill holes in your hydraulic lines! No fluid means you can't run away!"

"Yeah, but the Decepticon you're hunting can fly." Wheelie said, his voice startlingly close. Mikaela leaned forward slightly and discovered that he was in the process of climbing Ratchet's leg to reach the table. With a final heave and a twist, he landed on the surface with a clatter and sprawled out in the space between them. "You're thinking of 'Warp, right? He's a Seeker, Warrior Goddess, and there ain't no drill bit long enough to reach him once he's airborne. Sorry."

"So his name's Warp?" She asked. It was a fitting name for a teleporter.

"Nah, its Skywarp, and he's an ass!" The small Decepticon scooted closer and Mikaela picked him up automatically, setting him on her hip as she held him with one arm. She spun his tires, ignoring it as he arched against her and made happy, contented chirps.

"Skywarp is…" Ratchet vented air again loudly and shrugged. "Skywarp is… different than most Decepticons. He's a reckless and unpredictable fighter who only listens to his trine-mates Starscream and Thundercracker. He's considered one of the Decepticon Army's greatest tactical assets but is also one of their biggest liabilities because he's curious and not terribly bright."

"Okay…He's a jock with ADD, essentially. I can work with that." Mikaela said, one eyebrow raising as she nodded to herself. Funny how the same skill sets kept working for her even after high school. Turning fully to Ratchet, she focused her full attention on him as she considered her next problem. "So tell me Obi Wan, how do you trap a Cybertronian Houdini?"

Ratchet stared at her dubiously as Wheelie snickered.

* * *

It was somehow very fitting that Onslaught, a tactician to his core, take up residence on a military instillation even if it was in the middle of a winter wonderland. Already in bipedal mode, Onslaught nodded politely in greeting as Skywarp landed a little ways from the reinforced bunker the Combatacon stood in.

"**Enjoying your visit to Earth, Onslaught?"** Skywarp grinned, waving. Since his systems were already beginning to ration what energon he had left, Skywarp waited a moment before moving, instead turning his attention to the snow he stood in, wiggling his tarsals in the fluffy whiteness, enjoying the feel of the resulting rush of water against the metal heated by his heel thrusters. Only when he was sure he wouldn't fall did he wander over to the low doorway just as Onslaught stepped outside. Putting his hand on the stockier and slightly shorter mech's shoulder in a friendly greeting, Skywarp felt his proximity alarm trip, alerting him of a considerably smaller life form below and the Seeker's attention immediately shifted to meet his third human in as many solars. **"Oh! Hey, a squishy! Hi, Squishy!"**

In typical Onslaught fashion, the Combatacon Leader, merely moved his pede carefully to fully reveal the human standing beside him on the wide concrete platform just outside the doorway Onslaught had emerged from. Wanting a better look at him, Skywarp had to step back before he crouched down, his armor plates clattering as he completed the careful balancing act of displacing his mass. Doing so made the Seeker a very large, very vulnerable target, but Skywarp didn't worry about it, knowing that Onslaught would protect him because that was simply how Onslaught was. It was one of the reasons Skywarp liked the mech.

Though paling considerably, to the human's credit, it didn't move as Skywarp's hand neared. The Decepticon triggered a scan, cross referencing the information with what data he already had in his processor and what he had learned after meeting Scavenger's human. The squishy had three legs which Alicia had said meant the human was a boy, which in turn meant he was classified as male. Sam had three legs and was thus male so Skywarp compared the male in front of him with the only other human male he had run across, concluding that Onslaught's companion was older, taller and had more muscle mass than Sam did. Sam, however, had much more hair and Skywarp brushed the ridge of his foretalon against Onslaught's human's nearly shorn head in curiosity.

"**He's functioning correctly, right?"** The Seeker asked and Onslaught nodded in confirmation.

Withdrawing his hand, Skywarp absently placed it over his spark chamber, talons tapping gently against the armor as he triggered the icon for the pod. Consulting the image that immediately took over his HUD, Skywarp made some minor modifications to the chemical mix Sam was suspended in and activated the pod's refresh cycle just as his reminder about picking up replacement supplies activated again. The teleporter vented in mild irritation and through the graphic of Sam's healing body, Skywarp saw Onslaught's human jump.

"**Sorry."** Skywarp apologized, minimizing the display. A notification informed him that Onslaught had sent him a data burst and, curious, he opened and uploaded it, grinning at the other mech in thanks for the language bundle. Switching smoothly over to Russian, Skywarp apologized again. "Sorry. Just remembered something I had to do. So! You're a friend of Onslaught's?"

The human nodded sharply and Skywarp watched muscles in his jaw and shoulders work as the human stood tall and saluted.

The Seeker couldn't help his own smile but he saluted right back, copying the gesture exactly. "Me, too. He's very selective, you know, so feel very special. He has… special needs."

Skywarp shuttered one optic closed before opening it once more in an approximation of a human wink, and watched with amusement as the human's expression teetered between pride and apprehension at the insinuation.

"**Don't tease him."** Onslaught ordered, pede sliding forward to hide the human from view again. Now that his entertainment was gone, Skywarp had no choice but to look up at the other. **"We have a team of hostiles coming up from the south. Are you here as back-up or evac?"**

"**Evac." **Skywarp said, optics returning to the human as the male peeked out. "So, is this a military base only or do you have a science department?"

"**Skywarp."** Just that one word, full of warning not to cause trouble for the humans that the Decepticon had adopted. Onslaught had a protection streak a vun wide and, though this was regarded as a weakness by some Decepticons, Skywarp was not one of them. Protecting your teammates, caring for their welfare, refusing to leave them behind even at risk to one's self- these were traits common to all the group-bound mechs and it was how they managed to survive when the solitaries didn't. Skywarp suspected that this was because if mechs belonging to Gestalts and Trines were isolated from one another, they had a tendency to go a little crazy unless they had someone else to interact with. This adoption behavior was present in all of the group-bound and the Combatacon tactician was no exception to this- even if he in fact would happily stomp them to death later, right now the humans were safe from harm so long as Onslaught was present.

The Seeker frowned as he stood, putting his hands on his pelvic plating as he towered over the other mech. Thinking better of the gesture, Skywarp folded his arms over his chest plates to look more intimidating, for once using their difference in height to his advantage. **"I need some stuff. Since I'm here, it doesn't hurt to see if I can save myself a trip."**

"**What do you need and what's it for?"**

"**Working on a project."** Skywarp sent Onslaught a list of items with the necessary amounts and rolled both shoulder assemblies expansively, hoping he looked casual. **"Running low on supplies."**

Onslaught clicked in surprise but made no further comment on the matter. Instead he turned and spoke to the human beside him, who simply nodded before saluting to both mechs and striding purposefully away.

"**Does this have anything to do with the sparklings?"** The Combatacon asked after a few cycles had passed in silence. Astute- that was Onslaught.

The Seeker looked skyward and absently put a hand over his spark chamber, talons tapping lightly. **"Not really."**

"**Don't want to say anything in case it doesn't work, huh?"**

Astute and uncomfortably perceptive.

Skywarp looked at him sharply then let his shoulders sag, wings dipping, and Onslaught patted the teleporter's forearm in understanding before returning to monitor the movements of the approaching hostiles. Though the other Decepticon was wrong in this instance, the Seeker's minimal experience with Alicia was giving him ideas about how the sparklings could be handled in the future. A human 'mother' essentially became the pod for their offspring and Scavenger had said that their bodies could provide everything the growing youngling needed- warmth, protection but more importantly fuel via their own intake system. Sparklings could only process highly refined energon but when they were fully grown their intake system could technically run on any viable fuel because their intake system functioned as a refinery. If Starscream could figure out a way to adapt a full grown mech's body to function in the same capacity as a human mother's then…

Skywarp let out a sharp trill of surprise then began chirping in excitement, shifting on his pedes as he made sure to package up all the data relevant to his idea and create a back up so that he wouldn't forget the moment he became distracted. The issue of fuel would still be there but they wouldn't have to be so picky, just use the refined fuel the humans already had laying around, and no more sparklings would terminate from starvation! Starscream was going to hate the idea but Skywarp thought saving the little ones would be enough to overcome any misgivings, especially once the teleporter explained it all and showed that a pod could be incorporated into their systems with no ill effects.

He was still chirping happily when Onslaught's human returned ten cycles later pulling a cart whose wheels needed lubricating very badly if the awful shrieking was any indication. Still, for one little cart to make that much noise shouldn't be possible and, putting a hand on the ground to steady himself, Skywarp bent until he could peek through the doorway past Onslaught's thick bulk. He was right- it wasn't just one cart making all that racket. Behind the lead cart was a line of other carts, all loaded with supplies and Skywarp could hear himself clicking in surprise as all the items he needed were brought to him. **"Well, if I'd known it was that easy, I would have done this earlier! I love this planet!"**

"**Not so fast, 'Warp." **Onslaught said even as he moved to allow the humans down the ramp leading to the small loading dock just to the right of the entrance to the bunker. **"This is a transaction. What can you give them in exchange?"**

"**What's the total value?" **Skywarp asked, taking a seat on the ground directly in front of the dock. Onslaught gave him an estimate and the teleporter clicked in thought, talons idly scratching his cheek plating as he thought about what he could use to pay with. He began emptying his subspace pockets, hunting through the junk he'd managed to accumulate over untold millennia, trying to find anything that the humans could use or be entertained by. It took a long time but finally all his pockets were empty and Skywarp couldn't help but stare at the veritable landfill he'd been carrying around.

"**Wow. And I gave Scavenger such a hard time earlier for his collection!"** Oh course, thinking of the other mech reminded him of the time limit he had set and a check of his chronometer told him that he was already over due for picking up Scavenger and also that his overall window for return was dwindling.

Onslaught's optics scanned over the mess for a long moment before returning to stare at Skywarp. **"Is this a teleporter thing?"**

"**Uh, not exactly."** Skywarp said sheepishly, watching as two new humans strode out of the building and came to stand on the loading dock. One looked to be a soldier of high rank and the other… had to be a scientist because he was practically jumping in excitement as he looked at the mess then vaulted over the railing lining the platform recklessly. Alarmed, the Seeker automatically caught the soft creature before it could impale itself on a Quintesson sports trophy. Fishing the large object out of the pile, Skywarp placed it in his palm next to the human who eagerly began examining it. After ensuring that the human was alright, the teleporter moved his hand closer to his chest so that warm exhaust air fell around the squishy. **"But when one pocket fills up, I can just generate another so that's what I've been doing."**

Optics shuttered behind his visor, Onslaught shook his head.

"**So this one,"** Skywarp gestured to the human in his hand. **"Is happy with the trophy but what about the others? What do they consider valuable?"**

"**They're very interested in our weapons tech but don't give them any."** Skywarp nodded in understanding- if they had to go to war with the humans then arming them with weapons that could punch through Cybertronian armor was a bad idea. **"Beyond that, minor protection and science tech."**

Skywarp clicked in thought, free hand moving through the piles with care, occasionally pausing to lift and consider an item, either putting it aside or placing it back where he found it according to the sounds the human in his hand made. When the selection pile was about the side as Skywarp's palm, he set his occupied hand down next to it to allow the scientist to examine items without having to sit in the snow.

"…**Is that a gaming board?" **Onslaught asked, watching the scientist fiddle with an item then yip in surprise when the holographic display for the game activated. Skywarp nodded absently, beginning the annoying task of cleaning up his mess by subspacing things again.** "I think he likes it."**

"**As long as he's willing to trade, not a problem." **Skywarp said, when the last of the unwanted item had vanished. **"Wanna broker? I'm not very good at it and we're on a time limit."**

Onslaught's ventilation cycled on but he turned to talk to the humans while Skywarp showed the scientist how to set up the game. The game was strategic in nature and could be compared in design as a combination of European chess, Egyptian Senet, and the more modern game of Risk with different levels of difficulty and complexity. Skywarp had never been good at the more complicated levels of the game like Starscream and Thundercracker, but he could hold his own reasonable well at least until his attention span wandered since a good round never finished quickly and could last for _solars_ without ending. Setting the play level to its easiest setting, Skywarp and the scientist began a blitz game and, by the time the human won, Onslaught had reached an agreement with the human official.

"**You let him win." **Onslaught said, his tone approving as Skywarp placed his payment and the scientist on one of the carts and began subspacing his purchases. Though he would still have to go collect a few items, the Russians had very kindly supplied him with the vast majority of it even if not all in the quantities he needed. Still though, it would hold him until the storm passed by the Marian base and this was a small facility from what he could see; anything they would willingly spare was very helpful. Making a note to research an appropriate gift for the next time he visited, Skywarp finished and climbed laboriously to his feet.

"**I want them to like me."** Skywarp shrugged and held out his hand. **"May have to come see them again. So, ready to go? It's getting rather crowded here and I have to go collect Scavenger because his fifteen cycles is up. Oh, and Ironhide is about to go all 'Rambo' on us." **

Ducking, Onslaught stepped through the bunker doorway just as Ironhide stepped out of the forest, arm cannons humming menacingly, the N.E.S.T. soldiers spreading out along the tree line, ready to attack.

**::Don't move. They won't fire.:: **Onslaught radioed, following his own advice and maintaining a relaxed posture as he spoke aloud. **"So, what's a 'Rambo'?"**

**::But we can take them!::** Skywarp argued, more from habit than from an actual desire for combat. **"Well, Rambo is this human who's apparently very fond of just charging into a situation, guns blazing."**

"**Ah." **Onslaught grunted, still not moving. **::They can't fire or unless we become a threat. Too great a risk of an International Incident.::**

Skywarp hummed thoughtfully, nodding as he switched over to Russian. "So, Ironhide! Digging Earth? Get it? Digging. Earth."

Ironhide glared venomously at the Seeker in response to the joke.

"Well I see your sense of humor hasn't improved over the vorns." Skywarp shrugged and checked his chronometer, cursing quietly. Turning to the humans peering from the doorway, he dipped his head in acknowledgement and said very formally, "It was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for allowing my companion to seek shelter here."

He earned an unhappy nod from the military official but dismissed it and turned to face Onslaught, placing his hand lightly on the smaller mech's shoulder just as one of the human's at Ironhide's feet shouted something in another language. An alert on his HUD told him that he already had the language module needed for communicating because it was what Sam spoke and Skywarp triggered the program, running the audio through it just as Ironhide posed his own question in Cybertronian.

Idly scratching his chest plating, Skywarp cocked his head as he considered his response, all too aware of Onslaught staring at him while he replied in English in an aggrieved tone, "_I _have done nothing to harm your 'Sam.'"

"But you have seen him." Ironhide said grimly, cannons humming just a little louder. "Where is he?"

"He's safe." Skywarp said evasively, feigning disinterest as he examined his talons, inwardly snickering at the Autobot. "For now, at any rate, but really if you're that concerned about his welfare, you shouldn't have left him alone."

It was always _so _much fun messing with them, especially with one as infamously touchy as Ironhide, and suddenly finding himself in such a situation where Ironhide couldn't just open fire? Where Skywarp could be as obnoxious as he wanted to because the Autobots were holding to their soft-sparked ideals? Oh, it was an opportunity the Seeker just couldn't let pass him by!

Two of the N.E.S.T. soldiers in particular bristled at the admonishment and a quick scan confirmed that these two were the ones Starscream had mentioned in the combat files, Captain William Lennox and Master Sergeant Robert Epps. If they were concerned for Sam's welfare, then maybe these were the young human's parental units that human culture seemed to make such a fuss over. Funny- Sam didn't look much like either of them beyond all of them having three legs…

"Who's Sam?" Onslaught asked casually, watching the Autobot and playing along.

"Oh," Skywarp said, holding up his hand and measuring out Sam's approximate height with his fingers. "Human youngling about this tall, skinny, easily damaged, prone to glitching in cold temperatures. Killed Megatron apparently."

"But Megatron's online." Onslaught pointed out and Skywarp shrugged his shoulder assemblies.

"He got better."

Onslaught stared at him. "How much recharge have you gotten lately?"

"What have you done to Sam?!" Lennox demanded and Ironhide had to actually hold the human back by putting a pede in the Captain's path.

"Nothing." Skywarp said sincerely. He held three digits up, and tucked the rest close to his palm in mimicry of the Boy Scout salute. "I solemnly swear I have not harmed your youngling. I had nothing to do with the car."

"Car? What car?!" Lennox yelled.

Openly grinning, Skywarp looked directly at Ironhide and rattled off the color, model and license plate number of the car that had hit Sam. He didn't bother to give an explanation and once finished, looked down at his wrist pointedly. "Well, would you look at the time! I'd love to stay and chat, but, you know how it is- places to be, people to torment." He waved with his free hand and his other tightened pointedly on Onslaught. "It was fun meeting you! Toodle-oo!"

Ironhide roared in frustration and the N.E.S.T. team began shouting but the noise was easily drowned out by the loud _crack!_ of Skywarp teleporting away.

* * *

A/N: Ugh, I really am long winded aren't I? *Sigh* Skip to what interests you if this is a bit much.

'Arcee':Since in the 2009 movie all three of the cycle triplets are referred to as a collective 'Arcee' I'll be doing the same in this story. I read in an article that -despite the cookie-cutter simplicity of only their colors being different- each cycle Autobot originally was actually supposed to be a unique 'female' transformer from the G1 series, namely Elita-1, Chromia, and Arcee, but that this idea was cut from the movie during final editing so all three collectively became 'Arcee.' Also, for those who may have missed it (and I was one until I rewatched the movie), one of the Arcee units does survive Egypt intact, namely the blue one (who would have been Elita-1 if no alterations were made). Now, whether Arcee is, like, "intact" and all there after getting two thirds of her spark blown away (because how else would you explain 1 Cybertronian in 3 bodies?), that's a whole other issue.

A plea: I'm gonna ask for a lot of leeway with the Decepticons simply because there are varying reports as to who dies and who lives and who… kinda disappears off the plot from the movie and I've been banging my head against a wall trying to sort it all out, especially when in the end all of a sudden all those generic cardboard cut-out Decepticons appear. There's only names for the well known ones and during the fight scenes (which are really awesome, don't get me wrong) it's easy to lose track of everyone so please just go with it.

Rules: On another note, since Bay can't even keep to his own damn rules, I sometimes will be playing fast and loose with a few of them as well though not without purpose. One of these will be the Devastator Gestalt. As fans of the G1 cartoon may know, Devastator is actually formed by six mechs (Scrapper, Hook, Bonecrusher, Scavenger, Long Haul, and Mixmaster) collectively referred to as the- dysfunctional- Constructicons. Now, as far as I know, these are the true core of the gestalt but Bay also added in Rampage, Hightower, Overload and Scrapmetal as being part of the group as well. Since there is no 'spare' member, all members need to be present to combine in order to create Devastator… which means technically since they killed Bonecrusher in the first movie… and Bumblebee kills Rampage while Leo and Simmons face off with Devastator… Yeah. So, fast and loose with the rules it is. In the 2009 movie, the only member of the gestalt who we can really assume is dead is Mixmaster (the cement truck that forms the head) thanks to the Navy's railgun. There is no further mention of the Constructicons beyond the whole "Devastator is dead" line and, though this is admittedly true (no head= no Devastator) for this story we are going to assume that, at some point, the rest of the component mechs escaped Egypt and managed to stay hidden.

Gestalts: Now, because the gestalts literally have to work together in order to perform, I think it's safe to say that yeah, their overall behavior is going to be a little different when compared to the solitary mechs like Megatron or Grindor. In fact, allowing for personality differences, I think that the gestalts would have more in common behaviorally with Trines or other group bonders. Whether this is healthy or not is debatable but, considering the overall cut-throat nature of the Decepticon culture, I believe that this would be a considerable survival trait. By the same token, however, I think a driving need for company and a co-dependent relationship could be their greatest weakness.

Decepticons being nice? Whatever side of the fence you are on though, when these moments come up, please don't tear into me for it. Occasionally, these Decepticons may seem to act like Autobots in that they are tolerant of or possibly benevolent toward humans but, while Autobots will behave so in the spirit of cooperation and true benevolence, Decepticons will do so in as a result of a cost/benefit analysis favoring it. They are still Decepticons and just because they call you an ally doesn't mean they won't throw you under a bus for their benefit. That being said however, I imagine that there is a wide spectrum concerning how strongly each Decepticon holds to their bonds of loyalty to Megatron and 'the cause.' Some are going to follow it unto death while some… not so much. Remember, either through his charisma or sheer brutality Megatron was the unifying piece that held everyone together. Once he died, there was no more glue so large portions of the army not directly under the Fallen's thumb probably turned upon themselves in massive power struggles. On Earth, any surviving Decepticon would most likely have gone to ground as a protection member and, over the years between movies, those who weren't so good at hiding would have been found by the Autobots and N.E.S.T after the organization was finalized. The way I figure it, it takes about two years for the Fallen to do enough damage control to gain control once again of the army as a whole so that he can begin his attack by for the 2009 movie. So, now that Megatron's back again, essentially stuck on a little piddly red dust ball in what boils down to a nursery base, What's going to happen to the unsupervised Decepticons spread throughout the galaxy?

Seeker Appearance: Though this story has been filed under 'movies' I'm going more with the G1 body type design for the Seekers. I'm sorry if that really annoys people but the more I look at movie Starscream, the more it reinforces the idea that he's a chicken. I have no idea why! He talks and all I hear is 'bawk, bawk, baaaawk.' It's…incredibly distracting to say the least and since Starscream, Skywarp and Thundercracker all look alike except for color… The final straw was dinner a couple nights ago where I was eating chicken nuggets from McD's and editing and one of them kinda looked like movie Starscream, just tiny…and deep fired… I damn near choked on the fries I'd been eating at the time. Wasn't hungry after that, had to take a break from writing, too.

That being said, I'm sure that no matter what I say, everyone is going to have their own personal view of how these characters work and that is absolutely fine by me. This is just mine is all I'm saying.

Contest results: And the winner that participants in the poll voted for is spark sex! Thank you to everyone who participated! Answers ranged across all three categories but spark play was the winner by overwhelming majority. I'm going to augment that slightly and add in a minor 'plug in' element with it when needed so in this story, when the Cybertronians get it on, that's how they'll be doing it. Now, there may have been some confusion about the poll as far as what I was going to do with this information and if it was going to be used for reproductive purposes. I wasn't and plans currently don't involve it… because I can't really figure out how to do it though I did get a really interesting suggestion about a possible method. I personally have no problem with Mpreg fics and, as my sweetie pointed out, this story kinda skates that fine edge in some ways (a lot more now after this chapter) but since Cybertronians are not human the concept of having them follow the mammalian analog without a crash-course introduction to it can be tricky. Not saying it can't be done, just that the explanation behind it is a bit harder. Primus is a mechanoid being. The Cube that sparked the Transformers into being was a mechanoid construct. If you wanted more Transformers, you built a body for it then brought it to the Cube and crossed your fingers. Actually carrying what would essentially be an infant internally is a completely foreign concept into this mythos, one that many Cybertronians may find repulsive simply because it is so different. As far as sparklings are concerned, this story is going to deal only with the existing ones already present that we now know about thanks to the 2009 movie. Sorry if that's a disappointment but, if you like, I highly recommend reading 'Cover Me!' by Black Dragon Queen which does eventually have Mpreg in it.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: 

Okay, so in direct reverse of how most Americans celebrate birthdays, I'm giving you guys a present so please enjoy.

Disclaimer:

Don't own Transformers, yadda, yadda, yadda…

I just want to say before anyone gets offended (if anyone gets offended) I have nothing against Honduras but I think that, if this were real life, N.E.S.T. would consist and coordinate through the larger global powers. As far as I am aware, Central America, while a political power in its own right, does not play a large role in the grand scheme of things. I think that, in a situation like this, where an organization that doesn't officially only exist sudden lands on in your backward to conduct an operation that they won't tell you about to fight something else that technically doesn't exist, a smaller country may use the opportunity to make a very loud, very clear point. The specific locations actually identified in the story are chosen mostly for geological features as part of the plot, not because the author is making a statement about something greater happening- or not happening- on the world stage.

* * *

Serendipity Chapter 6

Bumblebee couldn't concentrate beyond the rage burning in his spark and Jolt seemed to sense this since the electricity manipulator was keeping a wary distance between them as the pair continued their surveillance of the small dilapidated farm in the valley below the hill they lay hidden against. The urgent message Ratchet had sent them felt seared into the scout's processor, haunting him, making him restless and impatient as he lay in wait to spring the trap they set up to capture Skywarp once the teleporter returned for Scavenger.

Sam had been hit by a car and Skywarp had him.

Come Unicron himself, Bumblebee would not fail Sam again and so he waited, forcing himself to be still even when every nanite of his frame vibrated with tension.

**::Do you think she knows his side tried to blow up the sin?::** Jolt asked over the radio, optics focused on Scavenger as the Decepticon wandered around the yard, a human female perched on his shoulder and a large bovine following in the mech's wake. It was quite a sight and the fact that Scavenger seemed to be having a conversation with the human was… well, very unDecepticon-like. **::And why isn't he trying to squish her?::**

Bumblebee rolled one shoulder assembly, optics never leaving the Decepticon, audio sensors barely registering the angry tone in the voice of the N.E.S.T. soldier assigned to be the liaison between their operation and the Honduran military forces. The scout only actively began paying attention once the soldier, cursing vehemently, slammed the satellite phone back in its holder with enough force that a regular phone's casing would have cracked under.

"The Honduran government is taking a 'Just say no' approach." The soldier, an American named Grant, growled.

"'Just say no?'" Jolt repeated, a lilt in his voice making it a question, even as he looked the phrase up on the internet. "Are they being pressured to consume narcotics by peers?"

Grant stared at the blue Autobot then did one of those long, slow blinks humans were fond of performing when they encountered a situation that required additional seconds of thought to fully process. The familiar gesture tore into the yellow scout's spark; it was a habit Sam had, one he'd shown often after Mission City when Bumblebee, still adjusting to life on Earth, had asked complex questions about human behavior and culture.

"Uh," Grant shook his head slightly then continued on in a much more confident tone. "No, not exactly. I meant that the Honduran government is simply refusing to cooperate in any way. They're trying to make this into an international incident as payback for our refusal to provide intel about both our organization and mission. Because of internal conflict, they aren't major players on the political power stage and they are really, really pissed about being left out of the whole Decepticon threat issue."

Before Jolt could ask another question, a N.E.S.T. soldier named Williams spoke up, awkwardly sidling through the tall grass closer to the little group on his knees and elbows. "How badly are their knickers in a twist?"

Grant thought about that for a moment. "They're trying to turn this into their version of the Falklands war."

"…Bloody Hell!" Williams hissed, eyes wide until he blinked and looked through his binoculars at the Decepticon.

"Yup, but that's not the worst of it." Grant nodded, expression grim as he pointed at the hilltop. "They want us out of here, like now, like right-this-very-second now. They are sending in their military to go Biblical on this area whether we're here or not. If they come back to salt what's left after they blow it to Kingdom Come I won't be surprised. They want to make a statement- 'Don't fuck with us because we are bad-ass motherfuckers.'"

If they killed the Decepticon, there was a high probability that Sam would never be recovered. Spark twisting in on itself in its chamber, Bumblebee never thought he'd ever hoping for such a thing but he found himself praying fervently to Primus that Skywarp appeared before the Honduran military arrived.

* * *

In a world that existed outside the realms of space and time, life and death, one lone human teenager was fighting a losing battle against twelve well-meaning Primes.

"Improvements? What do you mean, 'improvements?'" Sam asked, voice dripping with suspicion as he eyed the Primes warily. They had already had the requisite preliminary conversation demanded by his current situation, the 'Oh my God I died again!' one and were now moving on to dubiously more interesting conversation subjects. He shifted his footing absently, his toes curling nervously, and was forcibly reminded that he was standing in someone's hand when the metal shifted, the cool pieces of plating catching his skin painfully. With a yelp, Sam yanked his foot away, shifting his weight and hopping up and down on his other foot as he began checking the damage of the injured one. Primes or not, these beings had had very little contact with humans and Sam was forcibly reminded of how damn pampered he was by the Autobots in comparison.

"We are augmenting some of the abilities the Allspark granted you," One of the Primes, the one Sam strongly suspected they had elected group leader, said. It was the same Prime that had greeted the human during Sam's first visit here and had been doing most of the talking during his current one while the other Primes remained predominantly silent except to clarify conversation points. As if being stared at by looming massive aliens weren't weird enough, the remaining Primes seemed to find some genuine fascination with Sam's presence and the teenager found himself having to constantly force down the urge to snarl at them to _stop fucking touching him!_

As if summoned by the thought, a long spindly finger began stroking his head lightly in what he assumed was supposed to be a comforting or apologetic gesture but it only made him angry. It reminded Sam strongly of how he would try to sooth Mojo after accidentally stepping on the Chihuahua's tail or how his mother would baby Frankie after some perceived injury. Sam was human, damn it, not a fucking animal, and he jerked his head out of reach each time the stroking attempted to resume.

"The ones you currently have will be insufficient and you will need the upgrades in the near future." The Prime added, almost like an afterthought.

Sam was _so_ not liking where this conversation was going. Though he put considerable effort into ignoring this fact, he knew that the Allspark had changed him in ways he probably would never understand. This unfortunate reality had been made all too clear during the events that led up to and during the battle in Egypt. What he had told Optimus on the aircraft carrier was true; the symbols that had made him borderline psychotic were indeed gone but other things had taken their place. His ability to retain complex information had grown exponentially- probably the main reason how he had made it into a school as prestigious as Princeton- as well as the annoying habit of taking things apart and suddenly being able to empathize… or something with his alien friends. The last had nearly triggered a mental breakdown at Diego Garcia for both himself and Optimus and Sam subsequently had had to flee the company of his Autobot friends which was not helpful when there was a homicidal machine out there somewhere gunning for his ass.

"Augmenting how?" He asked, not bothering to hide the irritated tone in his voice. Glancing down first, Sam gingerly set his foot back down on the Prime's sparse palm plating and, beating back the urge to twitch, looked back up at the lead Prime as someone stroked a digit down the teenager's spine. "Because, you know, if you think there's someone more deserving of them, then I totally understand if, you know, you need to take them away or something."

It was hard to tell but Sam was fairly certain that the look the leading Prime gave him was reproachful and the wave of vague disappointment- the only slip of emotion he'd had from the Primes- that rolled over him only helped solidify the idea. Guilt tried to surface and the teenager ruthlessly suppressed it- he was not going to feel bad just because he wanted to have some semblance of normalcy, damn it…

The memory of Optimus telling him to run as Megatron speared him through the chest abruptly roared to life, making Sam shutter so violently that he had to sit down before he fell down. It was a potent reminder of what had happened the last time he'd tried for a normal life and, feeling ill, Sam took shallow breaths as he swallowed back his sudden nausea.

It was time to grow up and face reality, he told himself, and whether he asked for it or not- whether he wanted it or not- this was his life now, giant kick-ass robots and world saving adventures and all. If he really had wanted a normal life, he realized with sudden clarity, then he should have bowed out after the Mission City battle. He should have said good bye to the Autobots, even Bumblebee, packed his things and moved to another area to go live a quiet life off the grid and under the radar of anyone and everyone. As it had at the time and since, that option had been unthinkable, as undeniable as the awe and wonder that filled him every time he saw the Autobots that had seemingly adopted him as family. Give up the Autobots? Turn his back on an alien culture that considered him important even though they talked to the freaking _Secretary of Defense _on a regular basis, who, by all rights, had to be much more intelligent on most matters than a lowly high school junior?

He was sure that some part of him would wither away and die shortly thereafter if Sam did. It would be like giving up a part of himself, something pure and raw that was absolutely essential to who he now was. It would require a strength of willpower beyond what he had and Sam couldn't imagine what his world would be like if the Autobots vanished from his life… But that what normal life was- school, college, get a job, get married, continue the family line. No Decepticons, no running for his life, true but no awesome kick-ass guardian, no trigger happy Clint Eastwood quoting weapon's teacher, no misanthrope doctor, no second father-like figure, no military barbecues with those in the know. His life would be normal and, though normal was safe, it would also be incredibly dull now that he had seen beyond his limited world view at what his life could be, danger and all.

In a blinding moment of epiphany, Sam realized that weirdness was just going to have to be part of the Autobot package and that in turn meant that what he had considered normal simply wasn't going to happen ever again if he refused to give them up. Not for him, not for Mikaela, not for their children if they ever got married and had any. The knowledge of the Cybertronians' existence was, for lack of a better analogy, a double edged sword- it would at times separate him from the rest of humanity but at the same time he was a part of something so much more, so much greater than himself even if his role was minor and unimportant at best - and there were some people out there who would commit heinous acts in a heartbeat to trade lives with him. He was blessed, Sam thought with a strange mix of trepidation and excitement, and he should not squander the experience.

'Normal life' may have been the safe option, the known path, but if 'normal life' equaled no Autobots, then Sam didn't want any part of it.

As Miles would say, normal was overrated anyway.

"We know we have asked a lot of you," Another Prime said, gaining Sam's attention as he stepped into the teenager's line of sight and leaned close, the multiple spike-like fins on either side of its conical head fanning gently. This was one who had not spoken until now and in contrast to the booming voice of the first Prime, its voice was softer, gentler, though no less confident. "And we regret having to do so again when you have already given so much, youngling."

Practically swamping the teenager with the sincerity pouring off him, the new Prime extended a long, talon-like finger toward Sam. Warily, the teenager grasped it and found himself being pulled gently to his feet, clinging to it as a peculiar sensation of something warm bloomed in his chest, making him wobble dangerously.

"What's happening?" Sam hated how tiny his voice was, how unsure he sounded. He soothed his ego with the knowledge that anyone sane in his position would react the same way to fifty something foot tall robots messing with their body. "What are you doing?"

The warmth was spreading, moving like liquid from the region around his heart out to his shoulders, to his hips, trickling into his hands and feet and making them tingle in a way that would have been pleasant if acid-like fear hadn't been following in its wake. Reflexively, he clung tighter to the Prime who, with placid calm, picked the teenager up, placing him in his hand.

With a voice that was thin and reed-like, another Prime spoke from somewhere behind Sam. "Guardians have been chosen for you and they will keep you safe as you carry out your mission."

The warmth was in his head now, and he shook it in an attempt to chase away the sensation as he spoke, having trouble focusing on the words. "I already have a guardian, Bumblebee. Don't want another one. Don't _need_ another one."

"Bumblebee will be ill equipped to help you in your task." The same Prime said dismissively. "As would any other Autobot."

It took a few moments for that to sink in and when it did, a shock of ice cold fear made Sam shiver uncontrollably, and he backed away from the Primes until he was in the center of the giant palm, feeling betrayed and trapped. He wrapped his arms around himself, growing panic making him feel faint. They were going to make a _Decepticon_ his guardian? "Are you nuts?!"

"One has already accepted, though he doesn't know it, and through him you will gain two more." A new voice, one that reminded Sam of his Astronomy professor, said blandly, blatantly disregarding Sam's fear as something beneath notice. "They will keep you safe as you help Lord Megatron reclaim his title."

_I was hit by a car, _Sam reminded himself, feeling the skin around his eye sockets stretch in shock to the point that he was surprised his eyeballs didn't fall out. _I was hit by a car and suffered massive brain damage. Or an aneurysm. Or… something else that's making my brain malfunction because there is no way he just said what I think he just said. _"Huh?"

"Megatron is finally free of our brother's influence," The Prime who held Sam explained in its gentle voice. "But he will need your guidance…"

"NO!" The word seemed to explode out of Sam with a vehemence that was stunning in its conviction. They were serious- they wanted him to go live among the Decepticons and help Megatron! "No! What Megatron NEEDS is a fucking hole in the head and a trip to a smelter!"

In response to his outburst, the Primes froze in place. Sam remained silent, familiar with the odd behavior since the Autobots had a tendency to do the same thing when discussions had hit a snag of some sort. Sam liked to think of it as the Cybertronian equivalent of the 'deer in the headlights' look and he'd seen Optimus and the others do it fairly regularly, especially after the Mission City battle, usually in response to a human cultural component or concept that didn't translate well, like sex or personal space to a species that really didn't have either. During these instances, the Autobot held absolutely still in a way that no human ever could, as if afraid to move and risk making an offensive gesture while they tried to understand the issue. You would think that the abrupt cessation of movement wouldn't be terribly troubling to an observing human, but to the humans who worked with the Cybertronians, who knew that they were not mere machines, it was incredibly disconcerting. The Autobots had worked very hard to behave in recognizably human ways but the freezing thing still only served to undermine all their work, making them seem more alien, more _other_, and Sam had had to work hard to explain the problem before Optimus had gotten it. As far as Sam knew, they were still working on stopping themselves from doing it but habits, especially ones ingrained over millennia, were hard to break.

With little to no human contact, Sam doubted the Primes were going to bother playing human.

Defiantly, Sam glared hard at the nearest Prime's chest plate in an attempt to ignore the rising tide of panic inside him. The Primes may think they knew the best course of action for the future but being sent to the Decepticons would be a death sentence for Sam- a very messy one he was sure- and there was no way in hell that he was dying a second time by Megatron's hand. He wasn't going and they couldn't make him so ancient and wise or not, the Primes could just suck it if they didn't like it.

Rubbing his chest awkwardly as the warmth continued to invade his body and willing himself to calm down, Sam sat down on the palm of the gentle voiced Prime to wait, his left hand idly drifting up to finger the mark inked into the skin of his upper arm. To say that after his ill-fated visit to Diego Garcia, Sam had been left emotionally reeling would have been an understatement of gigantic proportions but, when all was said and done, the teenager had wanted some sort of physical connection to the Autobots, a symbol that he still counted himself in their corner even if he couldn't work up the nerve to return to their base. He didn't want it to be flashy or too attention getting, just something subtle that he and a select few would know understand the meaning of, and once he finally figured out how to do it, Sam had done the preparation work with an enthusiasm that should have scared the daylights out of him.

The tattoo shop had had walls lined with more designs than the teenager would have thought existed, most of which made him stare, caught between admiring the artwork for its beauty and horror at the content of the image depicted. There were flowers and animals, skulls and crosses, the faces of famous people both alive and dead, eyes, unique magical themed tattoos, hearts and bands that ranged in design from simple barbwire to complicated Celtic knots that made Sam's eyes hurt trying to follow all the threads, scenic images that were peaceful and some that had to have come from a serial killer's art class. And all of that was just a handful of what Sam saw as he crossed the short distance from the door to the counter, a folded piece of notebook paper in one hand and his ID in the other. The clerk behind the desk was well groomed and, aside from the black muscle tee he wore and the nose piercing, looked like he belonged more in a grocery store than a tattoo parlor at least until he turned around to lead Sam to an unoccupied chair further in, intentionally (or unintentionally) displaying the multitude of tattoos covering his back, the images peeking out around the shirt's fabric as they flowed into one another seamlessly.

After the first few bites of the tiny ink filled needles, the stabbing pain had became a slow burning, as if the tattoo artist was using a lighter to brand him instead of the usual tool. To distract himself from it and to keep from squirming, Sam had considered the strong similarity between the work station and his former dentist's office- except for color, the chairs were identical, the movable lamps were almost the same though the tattoo artist's one wasn't as glaringly bright, and the tray holding the instruments nearby was the same. The familiarity was unexpectedly soothing in the otherwise foreign environment, enough so that Sam could almost forget that he was technically mutilating his flesh and watch with curiosity as a balding, leather clad male that could looked as if he could bench-press a truck practically threw himself into the chair of the open workstation in front of Sam's and sobbed, the sound quickly swallowed up by the buzzing of the tattooing needle.

Sam didn't know what to make of that but he didn't want to jump to any conclusions either so he shifted his gaze away to allow the illusion of privacy to settle into place and stared at the mirrored ceiling until his artist told Sam he was done. Bandage in place, Sam had fussed with his rolled shirt sleeve, listening with half an ear to the care instructions his artist was telling him. As they passed by the other occupied workstation, Sam had peeked inside, nodding solemnly when he accidentally caught the other's eye. The man had been holding a picture, the edge he tightly gripped creased and worried in a way that suggested he'd done it many times before, and Sam realized immediately that the little brunette haired girl in the photo had to be the man's daughter. There were dates at the top of the picture and that struck Sam as odd because his mother had always printed dates on the back… Oh.

Sam abruptly stopped as the pieces fell into place. It wasn't a photograph the man was holding but a memorial card and suddenly the full color tattoo of the little girl being etched into his skin took on a whole other meaning.

"I'm sorry." The phrase slipped out and the moment it left his mouth, Sam wanted to take it back because it sounded so pathetic and incredibly inadequate. Bumblebee had told him that different cultures had multiple ways to apologize, that there was a specific phrase that expressed a specific level of regret and Sam hadn't appreciated that fact until the aftermath of the battle in Egypt. The English language only had one catch-all phrase to use when a speaker wanted to express that they felt bad about something and, until then, that had been perfectly fine for Sam until now and he felt frustration gnaw at him because there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

The man's lips had pressed together tightly, his face flushing and making the tear tracks stand out all the more but, just as Sam prepared himself for a barrage of angry words, the man relaxed, looking wan and tired and grief filled. He had nodded at Sam but his eyes were on the memorial card as his thumb smoothed carefully over the face of his daughter.

Sam had had nightmares that night, a mish-mashed jumble of some of his worst memories from Mission City and Egypt and somehow the man's daughter kept popping up in all the worst roles, shrieking that her death was Sam's fault, that it was _all his fault..._! It was a bad way to start the day and it simply went downhill from there once Leo had opened the door to leave and had had a pile of hate mail spill over his feet. The other male had groused and kicked the lot inside to deal with later, making disparaging comments about ninja mailmen before slamming the door behind him only to open it again a second later and stare at the door where some bastard had painted 'MURDERER' across the wood in the middle of the night.

Sam hadn't gone to class that day, had instead stayed in the dorm to scrub the door clean and study.

"Samuel?" He looked up, recognizing the voice of the Prime who held him, and felt his anxiety and guilt melt away under a fog of emotion that he knew wasn't his own. It wrapped around him, insulating him, and the more he fought to free himself, the less progress he made to do so. The worst part was that, after a few seconds, most of him didn't _want_ to fight it anymore, just wanted to bask in the unshakable belief pouring off the Prime that everything was going to be alright… But that only served to make Sam fight all that much harder against it, mentally packing everything he had against it, kicking, punching, lashing out in any way he could, feeling the curious sense of his body moving even though he remained still in the Prime's grasp. The sensation of his body moving, of the reminder that he could move, reinforced his efforts, giving him more power to drive the Prime's influence out of his head. It wasn't real and what he felt wasn't his will- it was false, foreign, and he denied it with everything he had but, just as he was making some headway, just as he had almost forced the fog out of his head, his physical self stopped responding to his commands. The lack of movement seemed to cripple his ability to defend himself and his concentrate slipped away, dribbling through his fingers like water until there was nothing to protect him as the Prime's will rolled right back in.

Sam had thought that, like the Autobots, the Primes fought for the forces of good, that they were a protective presence that respected and acknowledged sentient life. He had thought that the Fallen was an aberration, the fluke that every group seemed to have, but as images/sensations/thoughts that weren't his own began flooding into his mind, part of him wondered if his assumption had been wrong from the very start. This certainly didn't feel very protective or respectful and Sam certainly didn't feel acknowledged at all as information continued to be forced into his head, making it ache until he was sure it would explode at any second. He couldn't move and he couldn't speak but he knew they could hear him screaming for them to _stopstopstopGodSTOP_ but they continued anyway and Sam could do nothing to stop it, just as he couldn't stop the flashbacks that were being triggered in response to the casual manhandling. Dimly he could feel them petting him but, unlike before, there was too much pressure behind the touch and very quickly pain was added to the mix as their talons sank into his body, scoring his form with complex patterns that burned in a way his tattoo never had.

He should never have worried about the Decepticons killing him- the Primes were going to do it themselves and even if they didn't, Sam doubted he'd be sane enough to carry out whatever mission they had for him afterward. Or maybe that was the whole point, that, since Sam had refused to cooperate, they were essentially reformatting his brain and installing a new personality, one that would be more obedient. A puppet that would do their bidding without question, one who would act like Samuel James Witwicky, would look like Samuel James Witwicky, but would not be Samuel James Witwicky. It would be a robot… a Sam robot…

A Sambot.

It took a disgusting amount of effort to process that thought to the end and when Sam finally did, he screamed, wordlessly, nearly incoherent with terror as he prayed for someone to pleaseplease_please_ make the Primes **stop**-

And then, mercifully, someone did by snagging his hand and yanking him from the Primes' domain.

* * *

Skywarp and Onslaught vanished from the cold of Russia and reappeared in the considerably warmer climate of Scavenger's location.

"**Where are we?" **Onslaught asked, immediately scanning their surroundings no doubt searching for hostiles, taking in the Constructicon's scrap metal 'artwork,' the barn, Melosa who mooed at them, the cement mixer to their left and the dry soil beneath their pedes. Skywarp appreciated the latter because as his power and fuel levels dipped considerably it suddenly felt as if his pedes weren't going to hold him. His HUD a mass of angry red error messages, the teleporter wobbled unsteadily and the Seeker sagged heavily against the Combatacon's squat, solid frame, practically draping himself over the other's shoulders.

"**Nacaome, Honduras, Central America."** Skywarp said thinly after looking up what the geographic area was referred to by Earth's inhabitants as Onslaught easily took the Seeker's additional weight. Silently cursing to himself as his ventilation fans began to whine loudly, red-lining, Skywarp brought up his internal systems display and dialed back his heating settings. To prevent both his internals and Sam from being harmed by the freezing cold while fetching the Combatacon, Skywarp had automatically boosted his internal temperature but now that he was in a warm climate, the mechanism was working against him, putting him in danger of overheating. It didn't help that his power plant was suddenly adding to the problem by fritzing out for no apparent reason either, generating more heat but less power for his systems to use. **"Here for Scavenger."**

"**There you are!" **As if summoned by his name, Scavenger exited the barn, the cargo container held in his humanoid hand and Alicia sitting in his shovel-like one. **"You're late! After giving me that time limit it's not fair that you're late! Mixmaster and I should get another container- Oh, hi Onslaught! So 'Warp went to get you…"** Scavenger came to a stop in front of them and set down the cargo container next to the cement mixer, nearly folding double as he lean forward until he blocked Skywarp's optical field. **"Hey, 'Warp, you don't look so good." **

"**Low on fuel." **The tactician explained, visor never wavering from the hill in the distance it was centered on as he comm.'d Skywarp. **::Mixmaster? Didn't he die in Egypt?::**

Scavenger's optics winked out briefly as he shuttered them. **"Oh. No problem then. Hold on a sec and I'll get you some then we can all head out."**

**:Yes. Scavenger is not taking the termination well.:: **Skywarp answered distractedly, feeling his processor stall as he stared at the excavator incredulously. Fuel? Scavenger had _fuel_? **"You have some?"**

Scavenger shrugged, holding his shovel appendage out to the Seeker, Alicia sliding easily into Skywarp's waiting palm. **"Yeah. I mean, it's not perfect or anything but your frame should be able to process it without problems."**

"Hello Skywarp!" Alicia called, using a hand to shade her eyes as she peered up at him, waving with her free hand before shifting her attention to Onslaught who continued to ignore them all. "Hello Skywarp's companion."

"Oh, that's Onslaught. He's, ah, quiet." Scavenger said awkwardly, labial plates turning down into an expression of displeasure as the Combatacon's focus remained elsewhere. "Anyway, Skywarp's hungry. Wanna keep 'em company while I go get him a snack?"

Before she could reply, he was already striding away and disappearing into the barn.

"Did he make it?" Skywarp asked the human as he set her on his shoulder assembly near his head, the tactile sensors of his armor registering the sensation of her small hand grasping his audio finial to keep herself steady.

"The fuel?" Alicia asked before shaking her head. "No, he came with it to the farm. One excavator and many barrels of some sort of liquid. It's still the talk of the town about how the port officials nearly had heart attacks after the barrels vanished, worried about hazardous waste dumping in the area. They do armed patrols out here occasionally, looking for dump sites."

"How often do they do those patrols?" Onslaught asked suddenly, startling both the Seeker and the human. Skywarp didn't question why the Combatacon knew the local language, simply assuming that downloading it as part of the usual preparation rituals Onslaught always preformed when entering hostile territory. It wouldn't surprise the teleporter in the least if the tactician had a translation file for every recorded human language stored in his processor. Onslaught was notorious for planning and preparing for every mission eventuality.

Skywarp suddenly had a very, very bad feeling and he forced his pedes to take his weight, straightening though he kept a firm grip of Onslaught just in case. If forced, he'd be able to move but if he hoped to do anything more than stumble around, he needed Scavenger to hurry the Pit up.

"Onslaught," Alicia peered at the Combatacon curiously from under Skywarp's chin. "What is your occupation, if it's not classified, that is?"

"Tactician and team leader…Ma'am." The short Decepticon answered with neither pride nor contempt but he did turn to look at her, cocking his head. "Are you aware you have a parasite?"

Alicia smiled widely at him and put a hand on her belly, patting it lightly. "Yes. His name is David, thank you for asking."

"She's gonna be a mommy." Skywarp snickered despite himself. "Humans reproduce sexually and they carry the offspring internally."

Onslaught turned his head away to look at the hill again. **::Internally?::**

**::Yup! They have a special organ that basically acts like a pod as the baby- a human sparkling- develops to maturity.:: **

The Combatacon turned his head until Skywarp's optics were reflected in his visor and the pair stared at one another intensely, worlds of meaning being exchanged.

**::…Hope it works, 'Warp.::** Onslaught sent at length then did a visual sweep of the area.

"**Got it!" **Scavenger called, walking carefully so as not to spill the sloshing contents of the barrel he clutched. **"It's oral intake only… 'Warp- you're shaking!"**

He was right, slag it. The Seeker took the proffered barrel and felt his labial plates twist in disgust, optics focused on the barrel- it had to be of considerable low quality if he had to run it through his entire internal refinery. Still fuel was fuel and, after priming the system, he drank the concoction, swallowing hurriedly against the immediate reaction to spit it out. If possible, he felt even worse as he shakily set the barrel on the ground but his refinery hummed away as it did its job, converting the fuel into something his frame could manage since his HUD began to clear of the low fuel and power warnings. His power plant was still giving him errors but at least Skywarp wasn't in immediate danger of going into involuntary stasis.

Onslaught abruptly reached out and grabbed Scavenger, jerking him closer to them so hard the excavator nearly tripped over his own pedes. **::We have multiple contacts closing in on us, including Autobots. We need to leave .::**

But even as he nodded in agreement, Skywarp had his optics on the barn behind Scavenger, was thinking about the fuel the Constructicon had managed to horde here. No it wasn't the best quality, but it was fuel, real, usable _fuel_ and the more he thought about it the less he could stand the thought of simply leaving it here! The Autobots would never let it go once they found the cache and more sparklings would die and Skywarp would have to make sure Starscream didn't terminate himself when the grief got to be too much for the Air Commander's spark to bear.

That fuel meant that most of their problems were solved and it was right there, not even half a hic away from where he stood. Skywarp couldn't leave the fuel behind, he _couldn't!_

"Do we have time to move the fuel out here?" The Seeker demanded suddenly, carefully grasping Alicia and handing her to Scavenger. His processor was in overdrive, trying to calculate how much energy he would need to teleport the weight of three mechs and so much fuel.

An alert popped up on his HUD about Sam, informing Skywarp that the electrical output of the human's brain had increased significantly, raising Sam's oxygen consumption and metabolic rate. Skywarp was suddenly inundated with reports on the human, irregularities and movements and the subsequent strain on the pod's systems they were causing as well as a report noting the measures instituted to compensate for it all. And then, abruptly, an alert appeared in response to the detection of a spark in the human, something that wasn't even possible, Primus curse it! Frustrated with what the Seeker deemed unimportant and false information, convinced that the whole mess was a glitch or electrical short, Skywarp simply canceled all the alerts and simply manually triggered the pod's refresh cycle, this time adding an injection of a sedative into the mix. Skywarp ignored the resulting warning alerts and the red-highlighted video that appeared in the corner of his HUD of Sam's thrashing body abruptly ceasing movement and dismissed the subsequent report, thoughts fixed solely on transporting Scavenger's fuel.

Onslaught stared at him but answered anyway. "No. Moving them into the open would only make them targets during the bombardment."

_Slag. _"Scavenger, show me where the rest of it is. That fuel comes with us."

Scavenger tilted his head, facial plates twisting into an expression of confusion. "But you've already seen them…"

Skywarp looked at the blue barrel by his pedes and finally realized where he'd seen it before. "The mosaic…"

The one that took up the entire wall of the slagging barn.

The Seeker resisted the urge to scream in frustration because even on a full tank there was no way that Skywarp would be able to take the whole barn and the other Decepticons all the way to Mars-

_Ping. _Skywarp barely had time to register the soft sound of the projectile hitting his helm as several things seemed to happen simultaneously.

The humans hiding along the valley's walls opened fire on the trio of mechs, the bullets bouncing off their armor and doing very little damage. Scavenger practically leapt on Skywarp, the Constructicon clumsily grabbing Alicia and clutching her to his chassis protectively as he abruptly turned and ran with her into the barn, Melosa mooing anxiously in their wake. The Autobot scouts Jolt and Bumblebee moved out from their position and began firing in short bursts at the humans- no, Skywarp corrected himself after a moment of observation, firing in the area on either side of the humans, making the attack on the Decepticons cease as the humans turned on the new threat. Onslaught fired into the scuffle, using his ballistic missiles to take out sections of the valley wall above the human's hiding spots, creating avalanches of dirt that buried the humans and the Autobots.

The silence that abruptly descended was oddly deafening and Skywarp's peripheral sensors easily detected the incoming missile barrage, the ground exploding into deadly plumes of debris that got closer and closer to their position. The Seeker was already moving, his HUD tracking the trajectory of the incoming bombs and plotting a safe course through them, his capacitors and power plant humming as his systems primed. Skywarp grabbed Onslaught without thought and ran for the barn, uncaring that he fouled the Combatacon's shot at the two Autobots suddenly tearing down the valley's walls right for them. Onslaught snarled at him, his infamous temper appearing, but Skywarp ignored it and threw the other through the barn doors into the building, the tumbling piles of Scavenger's junk quickly burying the short Decepticon.

Skywarp stretched a hand upward and wrapped it around the upper most support beam of the barn as his other hand moved out until it touched one of the barrels, his HUD already cluttered by his pre-warp check list as he fed information into his teleportation algorithms, altering the code as needed when the equation was refused, expanding the parameters, circumventing the safety restrictions.

"**Hold on to me!**" The Seeker commanded, his engines cycling on as he boosted his power output, bolts of energy sparking into existence and dancing over his frame.

Onslaught hand wrapped around his ankle as Scavenger grabbed hold of Skywarp's nearest wing, denting the metal as his grip tightened just as something warm and organic pressed itself against the Seeker's leg.

The image of Melosa the cow crowding against him appeared on his HUD and his targeting system automatically hunted for the other organic life form he'd become acquainted with and finding Alicia clinging to Scavenger's audio finial, reeking of stress hormones and fear.

Both of them would explode once he rematerialized at the base.

_Slag it!_ **"Toss them out!"** Skywarp ordered, elaborating when Scavenger just looked at him. **"Throw Melosa and Alicia outside!"**

"**They'll be killed!" **Scavenger said, outraged, his grip on Skywarp's wing tightening painfully. **"They'll be shot!"**

"**The Autobots won't shoot them!"** The Seeker yelled in frustration even as a plasma blast took out a chunk of the far wall. Someone was really, _really _fragged off out there.

"**They fired on those other humans!" **

_Primus don't let Starscream find her! _**"Put Alicia in!"** Skywarp popped the latches on his cockpit, the amber glass sliding open in invitation. **"She'll be safe inside when we reappear."**

"**Whadda mean, she'll be safe? Where are we going?"** But even as the excavator questioned him, he was deftly placing Alicia into the pilot's chair and urging her to buckle up. When she was secured, the amber glass closed, locking, Skywarp's ventilation fans cycling on and pulling in as much air as possible. It wouldn't last for long and as the Seeker automated her need for oxygen into his primary systems, Skywarp decided that, if worst came to worst, Sam would have to share the liquid oxygen substitute.

"**Mars." **Skywarp said, electrical charge spreading up his forearms and over the wood of the barn as it shuddered ominously, threatening to buckle as something slammed into the side of the construction.

Scavenger balked, rearing back before thrusting his facial plates into the Seeker's. **"What about Melosa?! She'll die!"**

Chest plate locks popping open loudly, Onslaught grabbed the animal with his free hand and placed it inside the revealed compartment, the hiss of air alerting them that it was sealed air-tight once the plating slide back into place. **"Can we **_**go **_**now?"**

Despite the situation, Skywarp grinned and stopped forcibly retarding his teleportation systems. **"Yeah, we can go now."**

He'd set his teleportation field beyond its maximum, having to customize it so that when he jumped, Skywarp would be taking the whole barn. Onslaught began clicking quietly as the field shimmered into view, expanding exponentially around them and the structure, bolts of blue electricity swarming over the surface, making the air crackle in preparation.

_Here goes nothing._ Destination locked in, Skywarp triggered the jump, ignoring the flood of critical error reports and warnings that blocked out his visual field, telling him that he was exceeding his power output, that the massive field was consuming too much power. He had to try, had to make it work because their very future as a species was at stake!

But it wasn't going to be enough- he was putting all the power he could into activating the jump and beyond the flashy light show _nothing was happening_!

At least until the Autobot pair crashed through the wall on his right side. A burning plasma blast to his chest made Skywarp teeter backwards but the whip that wrapped around his arm jerked him forward again even as high voltage current blew the fine servos in the joints of his legs, locking him in place. Scavenger pulled him back upright, acting as support even as Onslaught, hidden by the mess on the floor, fired several shots, blowing Bumblebee back outside as Jolt sent another electrical burst through the whip into Skywarp.

Systems began shorting out, the wiring and fuses overloaded as the jet sucked up the extra energy. The appendage protesting, Skywarp forced himself to grip the whip and gave it a hard tug, earning himself another, higher powered zap to absorb, diverting the energy to his teleportation systems to make that final _push_ through to their destination. His visual field and audio feed blanked out and he felt himself sag under the strain of trying to move all that mass, his turbines firing on in a stress response, pulling in more air to cool his internals as pain tried to overload his cortex, fluid lines rupturing, secondary systems shutting down so that the primary ones could keep functioning. But he kept pushing, forcing the displacement, the pressure of the process building beyond his frame's capacity, stretched out into an endless eternity of prolonged torture as the world bucked and quaked, shuddering in stubborn resistance...

In that suspended moment, Skywarp thought he could feel someone screaming in agony, the presence familiar yet not as it reached his spark. Teleporting always made the bond he shared with his trine-mates sharper but strained, allowing clear flashes of emotion but with no identity or context associated with it, and, thinking it was one of them in distress, he reached out through the bond, grasping blindly, sending as much comfort and reassurance as he was capable of even as he felt his own internals failing.

Though he couldn't hear it, he knew the exact moment they landed on Mars because all that pressure abruptly released, the lack of the crushing grip a new kind of pain all its own. Hands grabbed at him as suddenly everything pitched sideways, an avalanche of debris bouncing off his armor as the metal buckled under the weight of the two large shapes sandwiching him between them, protecting him as something large and irregular landed on top of them.

_I did it, _Skywarp thought, a tiny drop of pride spurting through him even as the stasis lock countdown engaged. _I got the fuel so now the sparklings'll be okay… Oh, I gotta tell 'Screamer… 'bout the... the…_

He managed to send the data burst before the countdown hit the end of its tally and the relief that washed through him when notification came that it had been received a nanoklik later was the last emotion Skywarp knew for quite some time.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Ugh. I hate homework and now I'm up to my neck in it thanks to the end of the semester racing towards me. As such, it'll be doubtful if another chapter will be out any time soon. I know- bad author, no cookie. *Sigh*

On another note, I want to thank all of you who review and use the story alert feature. They keep me going and help me shape the story line. Cupcakes to those of you who review on a regular basis- the feedback is wholeheartedly welcome and monumentally appreciated.

* * *

Serendipity Chapter Seven

Thundercracker was frantic by the time he finally reached the orbit of the barren red planet in the Sol system. He'd flown hard from the Nemesis, pushing his flight capabilities and fuel reserves to their limit so that he could reach his trine-mates as fast as possible. Skywarp's spike of fear a few solars ago had put Thundercracker on edge, the anxiety only compounding when nothing but pure terror had suddenly begun screaming across the bond during the flight over.

Reaching the planet, not even fully transforming, the Seeker stumbled on his pedes as he touched down, rust red soil pluming as he caught his bearings and began running toward the base's coordinates since he no longer had the fuel to fly. Now that he was closer, he could sense his trine-mates more accurately but this wasn't exactly helpful since Thundercracker could only barely sense Skywarp and all the newly arrived Seeker could feel from Starscream was a relentless wave of keen-inspiring grief and guilt. Thundercracker's glitching emotional circuits had hopelessly skewed his initial landing vector, making him land a full hic off target and he cycled his vents to cool his systems as he worked to cover the distance separating him from the base.

Primus, let them be okay, please let them be still functioning, please…

…Was that a barn?

Thundercracker slowed as he approached the base, scanning the unimpressive structure, comparing it to the image files and information Starscream had sent them about Earth. He was correct- it was indeed a barn but what in the Pit was it doing here on another planet? An acute sense of foreboding filled Thundercracker, the emotion only being underscored when he realized that the uneven pile of dirt the building was sitting on didn't match the native soil and neither did the odd assortment of objects littering the ground. It was hard to tell under the thick layer of red dust that had settled over everything but the longer he looked, the surer of his initial assessment Thundercracker became and his worry over the situation increased a thousand fold as he brought up Skywarp's technical specification, attention particularly on the mass limits of the other Seeker's teleportation capabilities. Thundercracker scanned the barn and the debris around it, calculating the combined weight, comparing it to Skywarp's abilities, and coming up with critical error reports that made the blue Seeker's spark freeze in its casing.

_Oh dear Primus, 'Warp what have you done? _

_

* * *

_

_~*Thundercracker…*~ _Starscream immediately reached out to him, searching for comfort and reassurance as he sat on the Med Bay berth, the front of Skywarp's chassis pressed against his own. The rest of the dark Seeker in pieces on the other side of the room, the prankster had been reduced to just torso and cranial unit propped in the Air Commander's lap by an arm locked tightly around Skywarp's waist to ensure the other didn't move. The bright lights in the room's ceiling almost masked it but Thundercracker could easily detect the subtle interplay of his trine-mates' sparks, the resulting blue-violet luminescence familiar and disturbingly visible through the many missing sections of Skywarp's abdominal armor.

Something had to have seriously malfunctioned if spark to spark stabilization had to be used and Thundercracker felt his tanks roil as he gripped the open doorway to the room, unsure if his gyroscopic stabilizers would function long enough to get him to his trine-mates. Another glance at the berth holding the other Seekers and Thundercracker had to kneel, one hand over his oral intake.

"Purge in that." A large empty metal bin hit the floor in front of the Seeker, delivered by a sharp, scythe like hook through one handle. Thundercracker glanced up at the Constructicon, pleased that at least someone with medical knowledge was looking after Skywarp- even if it was Hook. Dull anger stirred but, rather than argue, Thundercracker simply gripped the bin's handle with one hand and pulled it closer, hugging the basin to his chassis until he felt more settled. Satisfied that the Seeker wasn't about to purge all over the floor, Hook nodded sharply then headed for the work station on the left hand side of the room where Skywarp's limbs rested next to a pair of two crumpled wings.

_Skywarp!_ The urge to purge returned in a rush and Thundercracker, sincerely glad he was already on the floor, hugged the bin fiercely until he was finished.

Audio filtered in past the normal sounds of his systems resetting themselves and Thundercracker looked up, frowning at Hook as the other continued to talk to himself in a language the Seeker didn't have a translation protocol for. The Constructicon occasionally gestured at spots along Skywarp's legs, something small crawling around inside the armor after the finger in obedience and Thundercracker felt his spark skip a pulse.

Horrified, Thundercracker set the bin aside and scrambled to his feet, the weight of his wings making him teeter as he hastily made his way to the workstation before his stabilization systems were ready for movement. Starscream tried to grab him as he passed by but the blue Seeker shook him off, intent on finding out what the Pit the medic was doing.

"What is that?" Thundercracker asked, shaking with anger as he stared down at the… thing randomly pulling wires out from the interior of Skywarp's thigh armor. He pointed at the thing, wanting nothing more than to pick it up and hurl it away but Hook's namesake moved into his visual field, hovering over the disgusting little creature protectively, the Constructicon emitting a warning buzz as the Seeker shouted, "_WHAT_ is _THAT_?"

Behind them, Starscream was making a veritable cacophony of distress sounds and Thundercracker felt talons brush his wingtip as the other Seeker attempted to grab him. When touching failed to distract the newly arrived Seeker, Starscream used words, underscoring the message with emotions through their bond. "She is helping, Thundercracker. This base isn't fully equipped and Hook couldn't reach all the damage alone! Skywarp brought her, protected her…"

Invoking Skywarp's name made sure that some of Thundercracker's anger boiled off to a more manageable level but what remained simmered not far from the surface and he glared at the little creature, appalled that the Mars base was so ill-equipped that they were forced to resort to such deplorable means just to carry out basic repairs, his frustration and anger over the situation mirrored by his conscious trine-mate. Megatron had never involved himself with the more mundane details of battle, had devoted all his processing power to devising strategies that would outwit and humiliate Prime, and now the rest of them were paying the price for his foolishness but none more so at the moment than the dark Seeker.

In that moment, Thundercracker _hated_, hated Megatron, hated the Autobots, hated the war, hated the resentment that coiled in his tanks, hated that miserable little _beast_ poking around within Skywarp's plating…

To the thing's credit, it had stopped working and was now standing carefully on the main leg strut, its hands held over its head, palms facing the ceiling and the blue Seeker cross-referenced the image against all the data he had of other life-forms. Several possibilities popped up due to shape alone but Thundercracker eliminated most of them after augmenting his visual display to see through the thing's laughable armor. Whatever the creature was, it seemed that someone had at least taught it Cybertronian gestures, and Thundercracker relaxed his armor plating slightly at the visual entreaty that the creature meant no harm.

Buzzing loudly, Hook lowered his namesake to the creature who grasped it awkwardly, small hands wrapping around the metal tightly as the Constructicon lifted it from the inner workings of Skywarp's leg to the metal table the appendage sat on. Thundercracker scowled at the creature, glaring at it, feeling his hatred and anger over the situation return full force even as relief fluttered through him that the thing was finally away from his trine-mate.

"I don't want that thing near Skywarp." The blue Seeker stated flatly, glaring at it as Hook guided the creature onto his hand and lifted it away from Thundercracker.

"You are hardly able to make demands right now." The Constructicon sneered, making the Seeker snarl wordlessly. "If you cannot control yourself, then leave. Starscream is enough of a handful without you adding to the problem."

Behind them, the silver Seeker issued a whine and the pathetic, needy sound only made Thundercracker angrier, incensed almost to the point of full-blown rage.

"Are you and your precious pet going to make me go?" The Seeker asked, stepping close enough to Hook that their armor plating brushed, enjoying the way the frowning Constructicon immediately began stepping back. In a blindingly fast move, Thundercracker had snatched the disgusting little creature out of Hook's grasp and was tightening his grip before Hook could even attempt to retrieve the animal. Holding it out of the Constructicon's reach, the Seeker squeezed the beast until he heard it squeak satisfyingly.

The soft-bodied thing squirmed, trying to wriggle out of Thundercracker's grip and the Seeker squeezed the creature again, the tactile sensors in his hand detecting its fuel pump's tempo increase dramatically at the pressure. Thundercracker felt a perverse sense of satisfaction spike through him before curiosity drowned it out as he sensed a second fuel pump's tempo nearly hidden by the first. The rage receded slightly, allowing him to think clearly for the first time in joors and the Seeker opened his hand to peer down at the little life form as it blinked dazedly up at him in return. Thundercracker cocked his head, frowning as he tried to think coherently, realizing that he was channeling Starscream's emotions as well as his own. The silver Seeker had always been the most emotional of them all, shifting from one mood to the next in a spark-pulse at a rapid fire rate. Normally it was simply distracting but today, with the stress of Skywarp's condition, the personality quirk was magnifying Thundercracker's already tumultuous emotional state. It was maddening and the blue Seeker felt his self-control slipping as Starscream shunted his anger to Thundercracker through their bond, disrupting his normal demeanor, and Thundercracker fought to drill the last through his processor as more of Starscream's influence swamped him.

The urge to destroy something was building, driving calm thought and logic right out of his processor as it urged him to close his hand once more, to clench it tightly and kill the organic nuisance. She wasn't the one he wanted but she was there, a weak little target, and killing her would be practice for when he did finally sink his talons into that damable-

Thundercracker jerked back, staggering under the murderous assault, careful to keep his hand open as he hastily handed the creature back to Hook, forcing himself to retreat from the medic immediately while he was still able. He had to get out of here, had to find a place to vent his frustration and rage safely or else he was going to do something that would endanger his Trine and earn his termination.

But, even so, the need to remain near his trine-mates was over-whelming and with the bond wide open between them, it was over-riding his common sense. Thundercracker warred with himself, torn between staying to comfort his Trine and going outside to work off his temper.

The choice, ultimately was taken out of his hands however as the Med Bay doors opened to allow the remaining Constructicons inside and the angry pack pounced on top of him, tangling his legs and riding him to the ground. They tried to pin him to the floor but the attack had made the anger return full force and Thundercracker's roar of outrage reverberated in the enclosed space, drowning out the shouts from the others, covered up the thud of falling metal as he threw the Constructicon on his back through the large bay doors, another following shortly thereafter as the fight officially spilled out into the hallway outside.

* * *

It was following him again.

Megatron's heavy footfalls nearly hid the steady _clop-clop _of hooves on metal from behind him but not completely and the Decepticon leader felt his back plating twitch in habitual paranoia. Irritated, he paused, listening, feeling the armor of his shoulder assemblies twitch slightly when the beast's steps also came to a stop. He waited, hoping that the animal would simply grow bored and wander away or that Onslaught, the cow's favorite mech, would fortuitously walk by to lead the beast somewhere other than where Megatron was. The last made him turn to face the cow properly- hiding behind a subordinate was inexcusable for any leader actually worthy of the position.

She mooed up at him, snout raised toward him as she took a few steps closer to where he stood. The beast did not come near enough to touch him as she did with some of the other mechs, and Megatron wasn't sure if he was happy or insulted about this fact.

"I do not have any food for you." The Decepticon leader stated and, copying something the Constructicons did under similar circumstances, showed her his open palms. "No food. Go find Onslaught."

He turned and resumed his journey down the hall to the medical facility where Thundercracker had undoubtedly headed. If he could pull the Seeker away from his trine-mates long enough, Megatron would be able to get a status report on the Nemesis' current condition. Before having to send the Seeker to Earth, Megatron hadn't been able to get a report out of Skywarp since one, the teleporter had made himself scarce, and two, when he did reappear, he'd been malfunctioning to the point that he'd been nanokliks from offlining into recharge. Starscream hadn't been much better for the solars leading up to his trine-mates' arrival, the stress of caring for the hatchlings maxing out his processing power until he was just a glitching little mess, and Megatron suspected that both of them being in such close proximity to one another as they malfunctioned had ultimately been what had brought both Seekers down.

That was the problem with Seeker Trines- the members were so closely bonded to each other that if one went down then the remaining two became absolutely useless. Still, though, being that closely bound to one another was also what made them so very effective and so very, very deadly.

It was why he, while being ridden by the Fallen's viral influence, had done everything in his considerable power to convince them to join him, to secure their loyalty so that when the time came, Megatron could count on their support as he systematically declared war on Prime.

And single-handedly doomed his race to the brink of extinction.

Spark heavy, Megatron felt his stabilizing servos falter and he sank to the floor, dropping to one knee with a hand on the wall for additional support as the weight of his past actions settled on his shoulders like an impossibly heavy mantle.

He could not say, "I was wrong."

He could not say, "The Fallen possessed me, made me do it."

He could not say, "I am sorrier than words of any language can express."

Even if each statement was true.

He was Megatron, former High Lord Protector of Cybertron, a mech who led a fearsome army made up of the most angry, violent mechs in existence and they would turn on him if they sensed any sign weakness. He was a leader and, no matter how much his spark wailed in its casing over the heinous things he had done while possessed by The Fallen, leaders looked unwaveringly forward at the future.

Even if that future seemed overwhelmingly bleak and empty with no Allspark and a home planet so ravaged by war that it was at the Well of Sparks doorstep.

The cow brought him out of his thoughts by mooing softly at him again before nuzzling his fingers and Megatron jerked out of her reach automatically, standing to put distance between them as his systems' output doubled at the brief contact.

The organic could not harm him, he reminded himself, forcing his systems to calm down by running a noisy ventilation cycle. Hook had run a battery of tests on both organics and neither of them posed any sort of threat to him. Megatron knew this, had verified it, but still he could not bring himself to trust the conclusion with anything more than wary confidence. It was ridiculous and foolish but the memories of being frozen and held hostage by the humans, of being taken apart piece by piece by the filthy insects- the mighty Megatron brought low by a species that had just barely climbed out of the muck that had spawned them- were unfailingly detailed and his processor happily dragged them from their archival spots at the slightest provocation.

Megatron whirled, his hand smashing into the bulkhead with a satisfying sound, the wave of painful error messages racing across his HUD from the collision strangely gratifying. The pain was oddly soothing, calming his frustration as he withdrew his hand, listening intently to the more delicate servos whine in protest as he opened and closed his digits. Nothing was permanently disabled though his fine motor control would suffer until his self repair systems corrected the damage.

Cycling noisily through another ventilation cycle, the Decepticon leader resumed his path down the hall, turning into the corridor that would lead him directly to Med Bay. Several steps in however, Megatron paused, tilting his head in a considering manner as his audio receptors caught the tell-tale sounds of battle. No alarms had sounded a prisoner breakout meaning that the pair of Autobots Skywarp had brought with him were still confined in their brig cell so that meant that any fight was happening between Decepticons.

He'd known that the relative peace in the base that his tolerance of the human woman had managed to cultivate wouldn't last.

Megatron picked up his pace, almost stomping down the last stretch, ready to place credits that the Constructicons were the combatants, undoubtedly fighting amongst themselves over some silly bauble Scavenger had found somewhere in the debris outside. The thought reminded the Decepticon leader to speak to the excavator about removing those 'flamingo' things that had sprouted out of the dirt to line the path to the main hanger door…

Megatron ducked just in time to avoid being hit by Scrapper as the scoop loader abruptly came sailing through the air. The smaller Decepticon glanced off a wall before crashing into the floor, coming to rest in a heap a hand span from where the Pit-spawned cow stood bellowing her fuel pump out and kicking at the air before turning around running away. Looking determined, Scrapper staggered to his feet then charged back the way he had flown, Megatron right behind him.

_What in the Pit?_ The Decepticon leader came to a stop and stared in confusion as he watched Scrapper dive for a blue pede only to be harshly stepped on then kicked against the wall where he did not get up again. _::Grindor, Onslaught report to the Med Bay. Now.::_

Thundercracker had Long Haul and Hightower hanging off an arm apiece with Scrapmetal hanging off his wings but the Seeker moved as if they weren't there as he focused his attack solely on Scavenger. The jet was hammering the excavator with his fists, one blow after the other, pounding away at the smaller mech in blind fury. If the Seeker's target had been a mech other than a Constructicon, they would have been downed in nanokliks but, even as the weakest member of the gestalt, Scavenger's armor was some of the strongest, built to withstand forces the Earth vehicle he mimicked never could, and, though dented, Scavenger functioned fine as he drove his shovel-like hand into Thundercracker's facial plates.

A Seeker's armor, by contrast, was built for flight, not taking prolonged physical damage and there was a resounding crack as the blow connected, making the jet stumble back in an almost drunken manner that the three Constructicons hanging off him used to their advantage, pushing him to the floor in an attempt to pin him again. Thundercracker thwarted their efforts, however, using a familiar move Megatron had never seen this particular Seeker execute, turning the tables on the Constructicons and making them retreat as he vindictively pressed the attack.

Both the behavior and fighting technique were totally unlike anything Thundercracker had ever displayed previously, were both so far out of character for the usually calm, quiet Seeker that it was as if some unknown entity had taken the mech's place while Megatron hadn't been looking. It was thoroughly disturbing and not a bit frightening, but the Decepticon leader's processor filed the information away for later analysis because the possibilities represented were simply too intriguing.

"Has Skywarp been giving him lessons?" Grindor asked as he came to a halt behind and to the right of where Megatron stood. Onslaught's arrived a klik later, the Combatacon assuming a similar position on Megatron's left as he studied the scene.

"Possibly," The Decepticon leader conceded, a peripheral sensor catching the helicopter's surprised expression. "However, I think the answer is far simpler than that. Grindor, if he hasn't already done so, help Hook sedate Starscream and remain in the Med Bay to help him with his work. Until Skywarp is repaired, all three Seekers are on medical leave and are to be removed from active duty." The remaining pair would be all but useless anyway; Thundercracker wouldn't be able to handle his work because he'd devote his attention to caring for his trine-mates and Starscream had been ready to have a complete system reset long before his Trine's arrival. Megatron paused, making a mental note to pick up the slack for the Trine once he was through with Thundercracker. "Onslaught, I will need a clear path to an airlock."

"My lord?" Onslaught was rarely caught off guard but this seemed to be one of those times and Megatron turned his head, one corner of his labial plates quirking up in amusement.

"I will handle this myself." Megatron said calmly, turning back to the brawl. "Some part of him is still in control because he is only using physical attacks and we must seize upon that advantage before he remembers that explosives do more damage than his fists. Take care of things in my absence, Onslaught, and find out what happened here so that appropriate punishments can be handed out, if merited. I'll expect a report once we're back."

They were both staring at him, he could feel it like a physical sensation, but he ignored it- them- and stepped forward, making sure to bring his pede down with enough force that it made the floor shake. His distraction worked, gaining the attention of Thundercracker and the Constructions, and Megatron felt his spark flare in anticipation as he sneered at the Seeker, crooking his finger in challenge, pedes shifting into a blatant attack stance.

With a twist that his dark trine-mate favored constantly, Thundercracker roared, flinging the Constructicons from his frame and charged right for his lord.

* * *

Nodding again congenially, Will gave the home owner's hand a final shake before walking back down the nicely paved driveway, past the immaculately cared for front lawn, past the perfectly pruned bushes, and jogged across Ober Road to reach the black GMC Top-kick parked there waiting for him.

"Guy thinks he hit a dog." Will said flatly once he was inside the cab, all traces of friendliness melting away to be replaced with pensive anger as Ironhide revved his engine and pulled away from the curb slowly. "Sent the car to a auto body shop nearby to get the dent out of the front."

Ironhide's engine rumbled loudly before falling back to its normal pitch. "Won't the shop call the police when they notice the blood?"

Will rattled off the address the driver had given him for the repair shop then slumped back in the seat wearily even as his hands gripped the steering wheel in a tight grip, a muscle in his jaw jerking as he clenched his teeth. He had to work not to snap at the Autobot. "I told you, the guy thought he hit a dog."

"So?" Was the surly response as they turned onto Mercer Road and gained speed.

"He hosed down his car." Will said, chest tight. "There's no blood to make anyone suspicious. The owner said they estimated a week for the work to be done and if we're lucky they won't have replaced everything yet."

"All the evidence of the crime will be gone." Ironhide said, the note of outrage in his tone making Will smile despite the situation. "He'll get away with injuring Sam!"

"Guy says it was an accident." Will repeated.

"What do you say?" There was a growl to the words and the Major suspected that, whatever their little unauthorized investigation turned up, Ironhide was going to exact some form of vengeance on Sam's behalf. The thought surprised Will though it shouldn't have in all honesty since he'd seen how the weapon's specialist interacted with Annabelle. 'Hide was gruff, clearly not used to dealing with younger members of any species, but he guarded the two year old as if she were his own, played games with her that he literally augmented just for her, told her stories that hadn't been heard for untold years of worlds and species she would never see. Sarah was beginning to worry about some of it, had voiced concerns over how having 'Hide in their lives would ultimately impact their daughter in the future, and though Will couldn't give her an answer, he was willing to take the risk due to the trade off that Annabelle would have a guardian who would protect her against any danger that threatened.

Will sighed as they turned onto Providence Lane and gained speed. "I say we have a look at the car before coming to any conclusions."

Reaching the repair shop, Will carefully bypassed the main office which was empty except for a lone older gentleman speaking on the phone and went around to the garage area of the building, reminding himself to relax his shoulders and posture so that he looked as if he belonged there. Several mechanics looked up and eyed him, looking as if they were about to challenge his reason for being on the property, but after a few friendly nods at some random staff members, the suspicion directed at him lessened.

For a species that was designed to basically be intergalactic chameleons, the Autobots had an odd knack for finding some of the flashiest, most ostentatious cars to mimic so the blue XK60 Jaguar he was hunting for wasn't as impressive to Will as it would have been for someone not as accustomed to such sights. It was a very nice car though, he had to admit as he walked around the vehicle, eyeing it appreciatively before stopping in front of the Jaguar and looking down at the bumper, grilles and headlights.

This car was built for speed, practically begged for it, but most roads in America had way too much traffic for such fast moving vehicles unless A) the driver was out in the middle of nowhere or, barring that, B) the driver took it for a spin very, very late at night. Will could practically see the scene unfolding- the car's owner hitting the gas pedal, feeling the speed as he roared down the familiar stretch home, enjoying the thrill but maybe distracted by the exhaustion of a long day, certainly not expecting a wayward college student to be wandering around on such an out of the way road.

Except the owner had said he'd hit a dog…

Will squatted down on the ground and looked up in the direction of the driver's seat, frowning. From this angle he could clearly make out the headrest which meant that the driver would have been able to see Sam, definitely would have made out the humanoid shape in advance long enough to avoid the teenager in his path. The owner had said the damage had been on the left hand side of the front of the car and, still squatting, Will shifted until he was centered in the appropriate position, still able to see the driver's seat.

Will frowned, not liking where his thoughts were heading as he answered his vibrating cell phone "Lennox."

"Tell me you have something!" Epps' voice sounded haggard and strained even though he was whispering. "Quick!"

"Epps?" Will blinked, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline as a terrified squeak sounded through the connection. "Epps?"

"Major Lennox," The familiar cultured tone made him freeze in place even as he mentally swore. "I trust that the sudden trip to Pennsylvania I specifically told both you and your partner not to take has been fruitful?"

"Optimus, hi!" Will winced, suddenly feeling like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Flight back to base go alright?"

"As well as can be expected." Optimus replied smoothly. "Now, how is your unauthorized investigation going?"

Will's brow furrowed, puzzled over the Prime's demeanor. The wording of the question implied that Optimus was unhappy about their little trip but his dry tone said that he'd known all along what they had been planning. It made Lennox wonder if another of Galloway's bureaucratic henchmen had stopped by the base without warning again. "Well, we found the car but it's already been repaired."

Lennox raked a frustrated hand through his hair, glaring at the picture perfect car with intense hatred. It figured that the car would be taken to the one most efficient auto body repair store in the U.S.! What, did they have a box of parts laying around just in case the damn car fell apart…

"Ah," Optimus murmured thoughtfully, immediately gaining Will's attention again. "That is unfortunate." The mech was silent but, in the background, Lennox could make out a female voice speaking, though not the actual words, followed by a hum from the Prime. "Would they give you the replaced parts if you asked for them?"

Lennox blinked then wanted to kick himself in the ass for not already thinking of the request himself. Having Ironhide around had spoiled Will completely. "Dunno but I'll give it a shot. I know it's late but is Mikaela there? I want to know exactly what I'm looking for."

Ignoring the looks directed his way, Will pinned the phone against his shoulder and got down on all fours, all the while making encouraging noises to the young woman who suddenly began speaking on the other end of the phone. He could hear in her voice that she'd been crying again and it broke something inside Will that he would once again be coming home with only bad news. First Sam and now Bumblebee and Jolt. _Jesus._ There was very little hope at Diego Garcia that any of them were still alive after the Honduran fiasco given that the valley center was now a colossal hole in the ground. All the mechs, both Autobot and Decepticon, had been right in the middle of the blast zone when whatever weapon the Decepticons had used activated, taking out everything within a twenty-foot radius. What hadn't been vaporized had been slagged when the Honduran military had simultaneously carpet bombed the area from the sky _and_ pelted it with missiles from its naval ships stationed in the port nearby. It had been an extreme response by anyone's standards and it had been a flat-out miracle that the human members of N.E.S.T. had made it out alive at all.

Glancing up at the windshield, Will felt his spirits sink even lower once he discovered that his new position made him all but invisible to anyone driving the Jaguar.

Turning over and flattening himself to the floor, Will shimmied on his back under the car, looking around, searching for anything that could connect the vehicle to the missing teenager, extending his fingers to trace the undercarriage machinery, investigating the crevices he encountered among the joins of the machinery. He almost gave up, half relieved, half disappointed but then his fingers brushed against something not metal and Will felt a weight settle in his chest as he carefully extracted the small stiff scrap of cloth.

"Ah _fuck_." He said softly but with feeling, inadvertently interrupting Mikaela. The scuff of footsteps nearby made Lennox turn his head and he frowned at the pair of ratty tennis shoes and the pair of stiletto heels next to the car. "Hold on a sec, Mikaela."

"Hey, um, Will?" Squeaked the familiar voice of Sam's roommate. "Can you, uh, can you come out here?" Lennox watched the tennis shoes leave the ground briefly followed by a strangled, "_Please?"_

Tucking the piece of fabric into a pocket, his heart pounding away, Will very carefully came out from the car, keeping his hands as visible as possible as he lay on the stained concrete. From his phone, he could hear Mikaela speaking, asking questions but Will's focus remained on the being holding Leo's shirt collar in a strangle hold to ensure the frightened teenager didn't escape.

"_I'm not kidding! You couldn't tell!"_ Sam had said, glaring at Epps who looked incredulous as the teenager recounted his escape from the university prior to the battle with the Fallen. _"She looked like Alice from 'Alice in Wonderland'- blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin. She looked human, acted human, right up until she tried to kill me!"_

And as much time as he spent with the Autobots, Lennox remembered feeling a little put out by Sam's description, sure that there would have been some tell-tale sign that it was a machine no matter how good the camouflage and that Sam, a Non-Com to the core, had simply missed it. At the time, Will had laughed.

He wasn't laughing now.

"So," Will said neutrally, swallowing down his fear and wishing that he hadn't left his gun in Ironhide's cab. "Can I call you Alice or is there something else you would prefer to go by?"

The blonde cocked her head at the question, studying Will before simply nodding. "Alice will be fine. My master sends greetings, Major William Lennox."

Beside her, Leo whimpered.

* * *

Well, at least he didn't have to ask Scavenger about those human lawn ornaments anymore.

Megatron had forgotten how slagging heavy Seekers could be despite their lighter armor and he stifled the reflex to wince as Thundercracker's unconscious form hit the berth with a tad too much force. The sound of the impact made Grindor jump away from his place by the wall and leapt into action, practically making a nuisance of himself as he helped Hook arrange the Seeker's limbs properly, spreading them out from the main torso in preparation for the rest of the Trine that would also occupy the berth. Megatron remained in the room to help them settle Starscream, the silver Seeker remaining in blissful recharge as they lay him next to his trine-mate, making sure that as much of the two touched one another as possible. Last moved was Skywarp, the Seeker considerably lighter than the other two, whom they laid carefully atop Thundercracker, ever mindful of the glass canopies the three sported as part of their design.

With Grindor in tow holding the leads, Hook descended on the trio, connecting them all to the various monitoring equipment nearby, the Constructicon's obsession with perfection making the process intolerably longer than Megatron thought necessary. However, Hook was the closest they had to a medic and arguing with him about it would only be pointless, so Megatron simply left the small back room and moved out of the way into the main room of the facility to let the other fuss, the doors _swishing _shut behind him softly.

Of course, that meant that Megatron had to deal with a gaggle of agitated Constructicons which was almost as bad and the Decepticon leader manually triggered a ventilation cycle to keep his irritation in check. What remained of the gestalt was gathered near Hook's work space in front of the berth the medic had made into a desk, silently watching something on the shelves that lined the wall behind the desk anxiously, their hands constantly in motion as they pet each other for comfort. Though Hook's report stated that none of them were badly injured, they all bore dents and scratches, and at least one of them had had a hydraulic line sliced if the puddle on the floor beneath the cluster of mechs was anything to go by.

"My Lord." Hightower, the tallest of the bunch, spotted him first and bent awkwardly over the group in a bow. "Do you require anything of us?"

It was an interesting question and an even more interesting greeting, a subtle enough hint that they were busy phrased in such a way that it couldn't be deemed as an act of insubordination. There wasn't a hint of gratitude either which almost roused Megatron's temper until he realized that it could be interpreted as an admission of weakness and that the Decepticon Army was a very bad place for the weak.

_What a legacy I have created for myself,_ he thought bitterly, fighting to keep his expression benign as he answered the Constructicon, gesturing to the floor below the group with a pointed look, unsubspacing a container of adhesive and throwing it lightly to the tall mech. "No, but one of you needs to have a line patched before their joints seize."

Catching the bottle of silver fluid, Hightower took the hint then began murmuring quietly to the others, shifting them so that he could hunt for the injured individual. Megatron left him to the task, confident that the large mech would be able to handle it, and instead moved behind the desk and over to the shelves that the gestalt seemed so enamored of, easily finding the target of their collective fascination.

A quick scan revealed that the organic was alive as she lay on her left side, breathing but otherwise unmoving , both her fuel pump's rhythm and that of her offspring's steady, but Megatron had to admit that it was strange to see her so still. During every other interaction between them, she was always moving or talking, animated in some way or another, only pausing long enough for her to bow respectfully to Megatron and greet him as the superior being he was. She did it every single time she saw him without exception, speaking to him respectfully when she had to address him, and her behavior had helped encourage the Constructicons to act in a similar manner though whether it was due to sincerity or out of fear was another question entirely. Alicia was small and fragile and required both a breathable and pressurized atmosphere to exist, both of which Megatron generously provided within the base for her comfort. A simple command to the environmental controls, however, could easily take them away and she seemed to understand that the life of all the organics in the base depended solely on her behavior.

She had yet to give him anything to complain about but the Constructicons seemed to think that that wasn't enough to safeguard her from Megatron's wrath and the group kept her primarily within the confines of the Med Bay, one of the few sections of the base that could be sealed off entirely from the rest of the base during an emergency. Consequently, the Med Bay had become the gestalt's hang out when not on duty, another benefit of the human since, corralled, the boisterous lot weren't under his pedes fighting with one another.

To earn her keep- her words not his- she'd been helping Hook repair Skywarp, much to Starscream's loud disapproval. Her considerably small size gave her an unparalleled advantage for getting into the tighter spaces of the Seeker's frame and she was intelligent enough to do only what she was directed to do by Hook. Because of her fragile body however, she needed protection and Megatron had overheard the Constructicons talking amongst themselves, the gestalt both impressed and proud of how the little human had created her own crude armor from the scraps of stiff cloth Hook had given her.

The normally white uniform sported a puzzling splash of red on the chassis and, feeling his curiosity stir despite himself, Megatron leaned closer to the little organic so that he could find the injury. The move earned a hiss of warning from Scavenger which made the Decepticon leader turn his head in the excavator's direction though the former High Lord Protector did not move away from the defenseless human.

"Do you have something to say?" Megatron asked. His voice was mild, mainly because he was more amused than angry, but the way the Constructicons were regarding him one would have thought he had just stated his intent to tear their little pet limb from limb in a violent rage.

"…Hook says not to touch her." Scavenger said and behind him both Scrapmetal and Long Haul nodded in affirmation of his words while behind them Hightower, applying adhesive to Scrapper's leaking underarm cabling, watched them silently.

"Her fluid pressure's low," Overload explained when Megatron merely looked at them expectantly. The Constructicon shifted slightly, fluttering his armor as he made a vague gesture to his olfactory sensor. "Thundercracker's assault made her spring a leak."

It was amazing that the Seeker hadn't reduced her to _paste_ as he manhandled her in all honesty but Megatron kept that comment to himself and merely leaned away from where Alicia lay even as his pride seethed that he was giving ground to the underlings. To distract himself from the situation, he opened the report Onslaught had sent him upon his return to the base and, after breezing through the file long enough to confirm his suspicions about the mess, shifted his attention to the hatchling data logs, checking their progress as he pulled Hook's desk chair over with his foot.

His fight with Thundercracker was finally catching up to him and Megatron sat down, stifling the urge to groan as a flood of error reports cluttered his HUD. Once Hook wasn't so busy, Megatron would have to have the medic check out some of the deeper problems but thankfully most of the damage was only superficial and nothing a trip to the washracks, a good buffing and some polish wouldn't take care of.

"My Lord!" Hook called anxiously from the other room, voice muffled by the doors until they opened to reveal the Constructicon who looked disturbed as he motioned for Megatron to follow him into the room, speaking. "My Lord, I need you. Here! Now!"

The other Constructicons looked back and forth between where Hook had disappeared and Megatron, the group clicking and chirring with anxiety, armor panels clinching tight to their frames as they shifted from pede to pede. They moved closer together, the mechs with thicker armor taking point while the smaller moved to the back, forming a phalanx with weapons out and ready to face the threat. They could no longer form Devastator but at that moment they were moving with one mind, as one entity braced to face what they seemed sure would be a violent encounter. It was both interesting and a bit depressing, Megatron decided as he stood and irritably stomped after Hook.

"Something I can do for you Hook?" The Decepticon leader asked when he arrived, making sure his clipped words and tone of voice reflected exactly how he felt about being ordered about by a subordinate. He watched Grindor jump as he entered, rotors flaring in surprise, as the helicopter executed a hasty bow at Megatron, optics flickering between his lord and the scene coming from the Seeker's berth. Following the mech's gaze, the Decepticon leader felt his labial plate curl in disgust, feeling like a voyeur suddenly as he realized that the whole Trine was spark-merging.

"Are you missing a sparkling?" Hook asked abruptly, punching commands into the datapad he held as he moved about the room in a frantic manner, peering at the machines the trine-mates were connected to, the light of the merge reflecting off the Constructicon's armor.

There were few things sacred during war, Megatron was well aware, but such an intimate act with a bonded should not be a public show and the Decepticon leader glared at Grindor until the gawking helicopter fled the room. Shifting unhappily, folding his arms over his chassis and trying to force down his general discomfort with the situation, Megatron answered the medic. "No."

Hook's movements became more agitated, something the Decepticon hadn't thought possible. "Did you misplace one, then? Prematurely entomb one? Leave one in a lab, maybe?"

Megatron stared at the other, wondering if Hook had been damaged in some manner that Megatron wasn't aware of. One didn't _misplace_ a hatchling- they were their children not a trinket to be subspaced- and the mere insinuation was obscene.

"What is your point, Hook?" Supraorbital ridges drawing down as he officially lost patience with the medic, Megatron strode over to the Constructicon and grabbed him by the shoulder assembly, spinning the mech around and holding him there to keep him still. "I have better things to do then answer stupid questions or watch pornography!"

Hook's mouth moved fluidly into several almost-but-not-quite expressions before settling into a straight line. Glaring up at his leader, the Constructicon stated flatly, "Your Command Trine has officially become a Quartet."

* * *

Reviews are wistfully requested.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Okay, so the past two months? I've been getting my ass kicked by one problem or another. First was the usual end of term stress which basically was the two papers I had to write (one 10 pages and one 15) so that was to be expected. Then came graduation which turned into more drama then it had any right to be become. _Then_, just as I'm reaching a modicum of equilibrium, I got sick and not just the I-feel-crummy-don't-wanna-write kinda sick I mean the I-got-knocked-flat-on-my-ass sick. I was out of commission for three weeks in total and earned a new appreciation for people plagued by migraines on a regular basis. I've always been prone to headaches but never to that degree- until I recently got sick. OMG I was just dying, popping aspirin like M&M's and laying in as close to total darkness as possible. So no writing for obvious reasons.

However, I'm better now and will be attending Anime Expo this week so Whoo Hoo! Anyone else going?

You know, I find myself pining for the days where I could feel satisfied writing five paged chapters… Anyway, sincerest apologies for the extreme lateness. Please enjoy.

* * *

Serendipity Chapter 8

* * *

Before his blue optics had even fully cycled online, Bumblebee was already moving, his processor gripped by a single driving command that canceled out all the other alerts and sensory data crowding his HUD. It did not matter that his weapons had been disabled, or that he seemed to be locked in some sort of holding cell, or that Decepticons had apparently taken Jolt and he prisoner, or that they weren't on Earth anymore. It was all just secondary information- facts to be taken into account at a later date after his primary command had been fulfilled- and the yellow mech immediately began examining the door lock, systematically testing its vulnerabilities, hunting for something he could exploit and thereby gain freedom.

Sam was here.

Despite how ludicrous the idea was without any evidence, the absolute certainty Bumblebee felt that this was an undeniable fact and not merely a fanciful hope generated by his overwrought emotional circuits overrode any disbelief from his logic components. Sam was here somewhere and Bumblebee needed to find him; nothing else mattered.

When subtler methods proved fruitless, the yellow guardian decided to be blunt and began kicking at the door. Bumblebee ignored Jolt's warning of caution and just kept attacking the lock, intending to continue until either the metal gave or his body did, his secondary battle routines already plotting out the best way to overpower any Decepticon that came to punish him.

After exactly five hundred seventy three kicks and two hundred twenty four punches, the door and its Pit-spawned lock were still holding strong. Undaunted, Bumblebee continued, his vocalizer squealing static as he cursed at it in several languages, promising it all sorts of vile fates if it continued to defy him.

"..feed you to Unicron himself!" Bumblebee growled, the words almost distorted beyond comprehension as his vocalizer cut in and out. Stabilizers whirring, he drew back his foot for another hit-

Abruptly, the pale illumination from the single overhead light winked out and, with a muffled _clunk,_ the lock mechanism released.

"The power's gone out." He heard Jolt comment but didn't pay the other Autobot any mind as Bumblebee tore open the door and strode down the hallway without a backward glance. Bumblebee felt the blue mech following behind him like a large shadow but couldn't spare any processing power for him or for the potential danger they were in as they navigated the base, taking abrupt- almost random- turns through the dark dilapidated maze of corridors.

Sam's guardian led the way, urged forward by a force that pulled at his very spark, a power he could not name but didn't dare question.

Decepticons, Primus, a raging nanovi infection- 'Bee didn't care what guided him so long as it took him to Sam.

* * *

_Leo peeked out from his hiding spot within the hallway alcove, ignoring the looks from the other students passing by. He didn't have the energy to spare worrying about them however, too focused on tracking his target through the school, on finding out what was going on. The Autobots would have given him a call if they'd found Sam, right? Even Mikaela would have sent him a text or an email if they'd found his roomie yet there had been no communication whatsoever to let him know that Sam had been returned to the school unharmed._

_This led Leo to two conclusions:_

_The Autobots had found Sam and hadn't told Leo because they were dicks and had forgotten all about his invaluable help._

_They didn't know Sam was back at school which, in all honesty, was a very un-Sam thing to do given how tight he was with the 'Bots and all._

_Conclusion number two led to scary conclusion number three:_

_It walked like Sam, acted like Sam, but it wasn't Sam._

_Which meant that, since all the 'Bots were gone, it was up to Leo to trail the not-Sam thing and hope to God his freaking cell phone finally found a signal so he could at least text Bumblebee that a not-Sam Sam was walking around campus pretending to be Sam, including taking Sam's finals which had been SO freaking creepy in Astronomy…_

_Coast clear, Leo crept down the hallway to the next bend, his cell phone in hand with 'No signal' clear on the small screen. There was no way in _Hell_ Leo was going to take the not-Sam thing on alone but at least he could keep an eye on it until someone with big guns showed up to handle the, well, whatever it was. Leo's only job was to keep an eye on the not-Sam Sam until then from a nice safe distance and, after trying to call for help yet again from his uncooperative phone, the teenager plastered his back against the wall behind him, peeking around the corner awkwardly. The movies always made this look so damn easy but it really wasn't and Leo could feel muscles he hadn't known existed strain in protest as he hunted for his target only to find that it had vanished. Completely._

_Not-Sam Sam had pulled a Sam. _

_Leo stepped out into the empty hallway, looking around, dumbfounded and annoyed that his awesome stealth skills had been thwarted-_

_Part of the wall next to Leo rippled in a humanoid shape then dropped away to reveal an all too familiar homicidal blonde, making the human male squeal as he danced out of reach of the deceptively small hand that shot out to nab him. He swore and begged to whatever deity would listen for the Decepticon to trip or an act of God to strike her down as she pursued him down the open air corridor and out across the grassy lawn when he raced through the first available archway he encountered. _

_Legs burning, heart pounding, Leo had a brief moment to realize that this was what gazelles must feel like while pursued across the Serengeti before he was tackled from behind._

_

* * *

_

There were a handful of days that Will Lennox swore he would never forget. The day he met Sarah and the day they married. The day his parents died. The day the Decepticons attacked his base in Iraq. Mission City. The day he held his baby girl for the first time. The day Fig and the rest of his unit were finally laid to rest in American soil. Each special and unique, they were coveted treasures to be shared with only the closest of allies, intangible monuments to both the triumphs and losses in the life of the man known as Major William Lennox.

Today, however, would be the only to hold the odd title of 'Will's weirdest day _ever._'

Shortly after Alice's arrival, the owner of the auto shop had appeared and, holding a wrench with a gaggle of followers trailing threateningly behind him, had 'asked' them to leave the shop. Will had had to forcibly rein in the impulse to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the situation, at the fact that the mechanics were playing with fire because Alice- slim, delicate, and packing more heat in her skintight teal dress than a platoon of marines - could reduce this place into a doppelganger of Ground Zero and there was no way these idiots would make her move if she didn't want to. Hanging up on Mikaela, the Major had felt a rush of adrenaline, his body priming itself for a fight, but then, to Will's complete amazement, Alice had looked at him and suggested they go grab a burger. Unsurprisingly, they'd driven separately, Ironhide right on her bumper as she and Leo- who she had lifted off his feet and shoved into the vehicle when he tried to get away- led the way in an older model Ford that Will found oddly familiar but couldn't place no matter how hard he tried.

In the days since Sam's disappearance, the weather had warmed up and so here they were, , sitting outside in the patio section of the closest Burger Queen at the table nearest the parking lot, surrounded by college kids and families excited about the upcoming holiday. Alice had refused to release Leo- "Insurance," she'd said.- but the box she'd been holding in the shop had been readily handed over and, after inspecting the contents, Will found that it was filled with mangled car parts.

The ones that Lennox could recognize as components of the front fender were dented and not just mildly so, suggesting that the scenario Will had previously imagined might not be too far off the mark. There was no obvious blood evidence and, even though he had known not to expect any, Lennox still felt disappointed that nothing blatantly incriminating was left.

Forcing that thought aside, the Major scratched his temple absently and let his attention be absorbed by the blonde sitting across the table. She still had one hand fisted in Leo's shirt collar but the other was occupied with the hamburger she was eating.

A hamburger, an honest-to-God real hamburger, complete with mustard, mayo, ketchup and pickles. Robots weren't supposed to eat, right, so where did the food go..?

Will stared in blatant fascination as she took another bite and, while chewing, set the food down so that she could sip her soda. Leo, too, was allowing his curiosity to rule him and poked her burger suspiciously, clearly checking for some type of trick. Will half expected the thing to poke back or bite and he didn't know whether to be relieved or worried when it didn't.

"Okay," The sudden sound of his own voice startled Will and the surprise helped him focus. "So that's how you nabbed Leo but why were you at the school taking Sam's exams in the first place?"

She shrugged and Will couldn't help but marvel at how smooth the movement was, how natural it was performed by the machine in front of him as if it were a gesture she had made all her life. Maybe she had or at least the Cybertronian equivalent but, somehow, he didn't think so. "According to your culture, no youngling should be denied an education."

Despite his attempts to be professional, Lennox felt his jaw drop.

"What about the younglings you killed hunting Sam?" Ironhide hissed from where he was parked behind Will. "They were not only denied an education but their existence, their very lives!"

"Sam is special." Alice said. "That youngling will do great things. All efforts should be made to nurture his growth both physically and psychologically."

She spoke as if it was a fact of nature, something they should have known and understood without having to be told. Implying that, since the other students weren't 'special,' they had thus been expendable, their lives of no consequence, and so she had killed them out of hand because they had gotten in her way. Her callous disregard of the lives she had taken, her casual dismissal of the misery she had caused to all those parents who would now only be visiting their son or daughter in a cemetery, was disgusting and, as she continued to eat, Will had to rein in the angry impulse to whip out his gun and simply blow her head off. But he didn't and part of him hated himself for it.

Unaware of his thoughts, Alice dipped a French fry in her small paper container of ketchup, scooping up a liberal amount before popping it in her mouth and licking her finger clean in a manner that would have been arousing if it hadn't been performed by a murderous robot.

Will felt nauseated and was glad he hadn't ordered anything. "Right. Sam's special. Fine, but why are you here now?"

"Ask her to let me go!" Leo asked in a tiny voice, leaning as far away from her as his shirt fabric would allow.

"_And_ can you let him go?" Will asked, annoyed.

"I can make her let go." Ironhide hissed. Will could hear mechanisms shifting inside the TopKick as the weapons specialist fought to restrain himself from transforming and blowing the Decepticon away in a pique of frustration. The Major could sympathize and had to force his hand away from his gun.

Alice leaned slightly to her left, peering over Will's right shoulder at the Autobot and smirked tauntingly, batting her eyelashes as her hand unclenched from Leo's shirt. Before the teenager could bolt for freedom however, her hand disappeared into his lap, making Leo immediately freeze as he blushed fiercely, and Will thanked God that the table hid from view whatever part of Leo she had a hold of now.

Ironhide's engine rumbled loudly, making some people look over in alarm, but when the Autobot made no further sound, their attention returned to their meals.

Knowing that he was relatively safe with Ironhide watching his back, Will put his head in his hands and prayed for both patience and guidance. When it became evident that no great insight or flood of calm would be forthcoming however, he gave up, ready to leave until something about her actions finally clicked into place with the help of her previous remark regarding Sam.

"Sam's alive." Will said, trying to not sound as relieved or excited or worried as he felt. Why else would she waste time and precious energy pretending to be Sam if he were dead? "Does your master have him or does Megatron?"

To his surprise, instead of continuing her attempt to ape a typical human female, every trace of personality began to rapidly seep away, draining until there was nothing left except a blank empty expression. Alice looked at him and Will had the peculiar feeling that this was the first time that she was actually paying attention to him, that she may even really be seeing him. Without any display of emotion to distract from it, the focus and concentration in her gaze unnerved him, made him want to squirm or look away but he held stock still, staring right back at her, unwilling to back down.

If she was through pretending then so was he. Ignoring the sound of protest that came from Ironhide behind him, Will leaned forward, invading her personal space as he pressed his advantage. He lowered his voice, knowing that both Cybertronians would be able to hear him above the din caused by the restaurant's patrons. "What exactly do the Decepticons want from Sam?"

Alice tilted her head, staring at him for a moment, before leaning forward to put her mouth near Will's ear. Lennox had to fight the urge to pull away as she whispered, her words so soft that he almost couldn't hear them over the combined noise of their surroundings and the blood pounding in his ears.

"I don't understand." Will said, feeling frustrated when she pulled away and leaned back in her seat, clearly not willing to explain her message. If human cryptic messages weren't his strong suit then alien cryptic messages were completely beyond him. "That doesn't explain anything!"

"It will." She said. Alice blinked once then smirked, her eerie flat expression gradually vanishing as her face became mobile- became human- once more. "Please pass it along to Optimus. I will see you again, Major."

And then she laughed abruptly, a rich sound full of complete amusement that drew attention to them all from the other eaters. It was the kind of sound that made men turn to look and Will jerked back as if stuck, one hand on the butt of his gun before he even realized that his arm had moved. He stared at her, prepared to fend off an attack as she stood up and, one hand on Leo's shoulder, smoothed her other hand down her dress showily just as a rather buff college kid walked up to their table.

"You know, now that finals are over, my friends and I are going to go celebrate." The kid said and, smiling at the Decepticon, turned up the charm when she smiled up at him invitingly. Jerking a thumb behind him, he gestured to a group of males gathered around a large truck. "We were wondering if you wanted to come along?"

The guy was obviously the member of one of the college's athletic clubs though Will wasn't sure which one given the distribution of muscle in the guy's shoulders and legs but he clearly thought he was an undeniable ladies' man. His entire demeanor screamed that the idea that Alice could possibly say no to his advances had never entered his tiny little mind and, after that initial look at Alice's face, the guy's eyes drifted to her chest and stayed there rather obviously. Will thought that any self respecting woman would have slapped the jerk into next week by now but Alice wasn't human and she smiled at the jock as if pleased by the attention.

Before he could completely squash it, a surprisingly sad part of Lennox wondered what kind of human women the Decepticon had been observing to be able to mimic such behavior so convincingly.

"Look kid," Will ventured into the conversation not sure who he was trying to protect and really weirded out by his indecision. "The grown-ups are talking so why don't you and the rest of the Goof Troop go pick up chicks somewhere else."

"Hey pops, your wife know you're cheating on her with a co-ed?" The jock snapped, blinking at Will in a way that suggested he hadn't registered that the Major was there until now.

Suspicion skyrocketing that the new-comer was another Decepticon specifically targeting them, Lennox glanced down at his left hand, his wedding ring glinting in the weak sun. Kid was more observant then Will had given him credit for but no one had the right to assume he was cheating on his wife.

"I say let him have her." Leo said suddenly, canting his head in the jock's direction. "If she kills him she's doing women everywhere a favor."

"Really?" Alice inquired, glancing at Leo for confirmation, and something in her tone said that she might take the comment to heart.

"No!" Lennox said sternly, wondering how Sam handled situations like this on a regular basis and still managed to remain sane. He focused on the jock who was looking at them all in confusion and annoyance. "For your own good, get lost, kid."

There was a not so subtle flexing of muscle. "Or what Grandpa?"

Grand..!_** Grandpa? **_How old did the jackass think Will was?

"His truck will shoot you." Alice said to the male with a straight face, then laughed when the jock shot am alarmed look at the TopKick. She put a hand on the guy's chest and trailed a finger down it slowly, enticingly, hinting at things that Will had no desire to think about. "But never mind them. Why don't you and I and all your little friends go celebrate, hm?"

She smiled at him seductively, her hand moving from his chest to touch his arm and he immediately wound it around his waist as he draped an arm over her shoulders possessively. Then and only then did she finally release Leo and the teenager practically leapt out of his seat to throw himself at the door to Ironhide's cab, making little mewling noises as he clawed at the handle.

The jock smirked in victory and Will could only shake his head at the kid's stupidity. With the guy's own willing cooperation, she'd just effectively taken him hostage and there wasn't a damn thing Will could do about it in public. He was sure that, if pressed, he could make up a believable cover story that would allow him to drawn his weapon and empty the clip into her head- escaped psychopathic killer sounded completely plausible- but Will knew he wouldn't be able to take her on alone. She certainly wasn't going to simply stand still and let him kill her, which meant that Ironhide would get involved and there was no way in Hell that the tried-and-true toxic gas leak induced hallucination explanation would work when the battle took place at a Burger Queen..!

"Don't kill him." Lennox looked at the Decepticon in a final appeal. "He doesn't know what he's getting into."

Tucking her head beneath the jock's chin, Alice smiled at him benignly, a bare flexing of lips that could mean a million things and yet promised absolutely nothing.

The jock snorted, tightening his grip. "Don't worry about me, old man. I like a tiger in the sack."

"A tiger would be safer." Will muttered before he could stop himself, scrubbing a hand through his hair in frustration. At least you could shoot the tiger in the head with a regular bullet and not worry about it getting back up. Half of Will despaired over the idea of letting the kid leave with the homicidal alien but the other half was pointing out loudly that the jerk needed a wakeup call, that it was like the universe itself had arranged for a massive demonstration of karmic vengeance _**and**_ poetic justice of epic proportions to befall the jerk. Everything about the kid- the swagger, the Narcissistic confidence, the possessive demonstration for a girl he's known all of a minute- set off alarms in Will's head that the guy had a way of not taking 'no' for an answer when it came to women.

"Forces are moving against you." Alice said suddenly, angling her head so that only Will could see her face. Like a switch had been flipped, her expression had blanked out again, all traces of her faux humanity vanishing as her eyes flicked back and forth between Lennox and the Autobot in disguise behind him. "Be very careful who you and yours trust."

And then her eyes were all for Ironhide as she said something in Cybertronian that made the TopKick jerk, the action distracting the jock so that he looked at it sharply as Alice flipped her humanity switch into the 'on' position again.

Disturbed, Will watched as, with a little push and a bright smile, she got the jock moving, allowing him to lead her toward the waiting group of males, the whole lot of them watching her approach hungrily. Lennox watched them greet her, watched the jock's hand on her shoulder slip to cup her ass, watched the Decepticon smile as they pawed her while she fastened her seat belt, and wondered how exactly he was supposed to explain any of this to Optimus.

* * *

Alicia woke with a jerk, blinking blurrily in the eerie grey twilight of the medical ward, wondering what had woken her from such a deep sleep. She lay still, listening, the act taking more energy than was pretty for her sleep fogged mind but when nothing out of the ordinary caught her attention she pulled her blanket higher, smiling a bit at the thought of a giant robot alien tucking her in. She was betting it was Scavenger who had both supplied the cloth and draped it over her since he seemed to be the most considerate of the group though Hook, for all his condescending perfectionist bluster, did occasionally have his moments-

Her train of thought was derailed by the sound of liquid hitting a hard surface and she sat up slowly, waiting until the lightheadedness passed before standing. She'd made that mistake before, and had no desire for a repeat, thank you very much, so she moved with deliberate caution, levering herself up until her feet touched the floor, toes curling in shock at the sudden coolness of the metal they encountered. The shock helped her wake up a bit more and, after rubbing her face with her hands, Alicia set off to investigate the noise, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders like a cloak since the thin pink fabric of the moo-moo she used as a night gown wouldn't keep her warm enough as she moved around.

Despite their comparatively gigantic size, the Constructicons had exceptional skill designing mechanisms for human usage and it was with a fond if tired smile that Alicia stepped into the small elevator-like cage located at the end the shelf where she resided and hit the button that would bring her to the main table. Once there, she walked across the work surface, soft guide lights in the metal chasing back the dimness, leading her safely to where another elevator awaited to take her to the room's floor.

The lights embedded in the floor along the walls of the medical bay were brighter now that she wasn't quite so high up, allowing Alicia to look around for the source of the sound she could still hear without having to worry about accidentally tripping over it. A few seconds of listening told her that whatever it was wasn't in this room and Alicia cursed under her breath since that meant that the source of the noise was in the room Hook had put the jet trio in.

Alicia slowed to a stop, both hands running over her belly nervously as she stared up at the door that seemed to loom over her menacingly. She did **not** want to go in there, not after her previous meeting with the jet… Firecracker, was it? It had definitely been storm sound themed… Thunderclap? No! Ah, now she had it- Thundercracker, the blue flyer with major anger issues. She shivered, the memory of large metal fingers wrapping around her small body, of her muscles being squeezed while her bones creaked in warning, and nearly turned around to head back to her bed- sound be damned. But she didn't and, after a calming breath, walked forward defiantly until she was directly in front of the seam where the double doors met to form the barrier to the room beyond.

Was it just her or had the lights just flickered? Alicia paused, frowning as she tried to detect any change in the brightness of the illumination in the room. Just as she was about to chalk it up to her eyes playing tricks on her, the room was plunged into a darkness so complete it was almost a physical weight against her skin. It sent a chill down her spine but, before she could truly become afraid, the light returned to its previous level.

_Well that was ominous._ Trepidation mounting, she waited for the doors to open and let her inside for just a small peek but when they stubbornly remained shut, she canted her head to the side in puzzlement. Not that she'd really explored exactly how much freedom she had beyond the medical ward, Alicia had yet to be barred access from any room she'd come across and this sudden refusal of admittance was felt like a rejection despite the fact that she really didn't want to go inside. Just to be sure, she backed up a bit and waved a hand in a wide arch, trying to trigger whatever motion sensors the doors ran on… which was pointless considering that they were calibrated for _giant freaking robots!_

_Way to go, idiot. _Running a hand through her frizzy dark brown hair, she decided to go back to bed, thinking herself a fool for tromping all the way down here. Her sense of time was completely screwed up but she was sure that her _míos _would be up soon and, like very large toddlers with severe ADD, would want to play games or something...

Was that a _moan_? Her smile at her previous thoughts slipped away to be replaced by a puzzled frown as she put her ear to the door seam, listening intently for the noise again. The sound had lacked the digital quality the voices of the robots always had, as if she were talking to someone using an internet chat service, and had sounded more human even if it was faint. Confused, she pressed harder against the door, concentrating, worrying her bottom lip absently as she waited.

"Alicia?"

The voice came from right behind her without warning and Alicia shrieked, jumping in surprise. Stumbling, she would have landed on her ass if Hook's hand hadn't darted forward to catch her and, heart in her throat, she could only lay back against his fingers, gulping air as she tried to catch her breath.

"_Madra de díos_, Hook!" Alicia said when she could speak beyond her racing heartbeat, glaring up at the robot as he straightened from his crouched position, keeping his hand in front of him as he moved. She smacked his thumb as hard as she could to make him stop, her hand stinging a bit as a result. "You scared the Hell outta me!"

Hook's head canted to the side, metallic lips briefly quirking up in a smirk before flattening into a stern line. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I heard a noise." The moment she said it she wanted to take it back. What, was she three? _Papa, I heard a noise in the closet. Can you go look, por favor? _If Hook offered her a glass of warm milk, she'd never be able to live it down.

Hook grunted- at least that's what she thought the short metallic cough-like sound was supposed to be- and looked at the door with a frown, some mechanism in his chest making soft clicking noises in a constant stream that Alicia found distracting, especially when the robot began to speak. H

"Noisy slaggers even when recharging." Hook said in disgust, shaking his head as he turned around. "Shouldn't expect anything less of Starscream's Trine."

_Trine, hm?_ Scavenger had mentioned that each group had a specific label and this must the one for the group of flyers. It made sense, actually, considering how similar they all appeared. Alicia filed that tidbit of information away for examination at a future date. "No, it was a wet noise, like something was leaking. And I think someone's in pain because there was a moan."

Hook paused, his eyebrows- or eye-ridges maybe, because giant robots from outer space technically didn't have any hair- arching up as he looked first at her then at the door before sighing loudly, the wash of air rushing over her a moment before a second blast followed as a result of the smaller room's double doors opening.

She had to cover her eyes as all the overhead lights abruptly turned on but even through her hands the bright illumination felt like a physical force hitting her, a large invisible slap that momentarily left her blind and dumb so that Alicia had no idea what that God-awful buzzing was nor, more importantly, why she was suddenly tumbling out of Hook's lowered hand to land safely in some sort of puddle.

Above her, she could hear Hook moving around, cursing in his native language the robots had a tendency to use with one another and she resisted the urge to cover her ears while the harsh sounds of someone butchering an active modem with a rusty chainsaw echoed through the small room. Blinking furiously to regain her senses, Alicia felt her face twist into an expression of disgust as she held up her hand to look at the violet slime now covering it before putting the appendage back down into the puddle for stability. A quick glance for the source of the thick fluid revealed that it had come from above, from something on the robot-sized metal bed rising like a monolith from the floor, and Alicia hastily scooted out of the way as more fluid oozed over the edge like some kind of hideous rain.

Hook continued to curse, his grating voice nearly drowning out the more delicate sounds of metal sliding against metal, but above the din was the constant buzzing she had heard before being set down. It was as if someone had disturbed a gigantic hive and the inhabitants were not only thoroughly riled, but also extremely pissed. Alicia half expected to see a swarm of bees roiling near the ceiling as they waited to strike and she instinctively hunched awkwardly around her middle even as she glanced up at the metal table above. From her new position she could see into Skywarp's chest but had to quickly put a hand up to shield her eyes and turned her face away because a light- dark but still bright as the sun- buried amidst the internal mechanisms was retina searing. It took several seconds to blink the resulting after images from her eyes and even then a full minute for her brain to fully understand what she was seeing on the floor beside her.

"Hook, are there any other humans here?" Her voice sounded strange to her ears, softer and far away, her eyes never moving from the body in next to her. Every square inch of him bathed in the thick mess that still dribbled occasionally from table, the person lay on their left side facing her, and Alicia felt her gaze immediately fasten on the right arm that bent at an angle a human arm shouldn't. Unbidden, her eyes drifted from there to the left arm laying along the floor then traced the line of the body to look at the person's legs, the feet nearly hidden by the person's pajamas. The remaining limbs appeared fine but, though it was hard to tell, Alicia was fairly certain that there was something wrong with the individual's left shoulder, that the joint wasn't right somehow, too loose for the average male…

"Hey," As if by its own will, her hand settled on the person's hip and rocked him gently then with more force when he only flopped bonelessly. "Hey, wake up!"

_Oh shit! Oh Shit! Oh shit!_ In retrospect, it was embarrassing how fast she leapt on the person, tearing at his soaked clothing without a thought for decency, frantically wiping at the goo covering his mouth and nose with her blanket before tilting his head back and beginning CPR. One breath in however informed her that the person wasn't simply covered by the thick slime and Alicia turned him on his side, using the heel of her hand to hit the space between his shoulder blades in quick, sharp blows in order to clear some of it from his throat. When that wasn't as helpful as she had hoped, she resorted to using her fingers to scoop the gunk out before lowering him onto his back again, tilting his head backward and trying another breath.

"Hook!" Tears of frustration were threatening as she began chest compressions, the slime undoing all her efforts, making her hands slip and slide as she pressed downward. She felt bones moving under her hands, could see the splotches of discolor on his exposed skin and wondered if she was causing more damage than she was hoping to heal. "Hook, I NEED you!"

Her shout was swallowed by an unholy screeching that suddenly cut through the air. It startled her, making Alicia yip in surprise, her arms slipping out from under her and sprawling her across the male's torso in an awkward heap. The feel of things breaking with small pops under her weight made her skin crawl, made her nauseous, and she scrambled upright as quickly as she could, apologizing profusely and hoping to God she hadn't just killed the very person she was trying to save. Righting herself with difficulty, Alicia knelt beside the person and hesitated, her hands hovering uncertainly.

_No, _She scolded herself, settling her hands firmly over his heart._ No, this is no time to be squeamish!_ She began counting her thrusts and when she hit thirty, Alicia repositioned the man's head to deliver a breath, taking a moment to scoop out the goo that had refilled his mouth before moving her hands to his chest again.

Above them the screeching became full-out screaming occasionally interrupted by the ominous sound of tearing metal. Hook was yelling and Alicia looked upward, feeling her eyes widen as silver limbs flailed in and out of view as the medic grappled with Starscream, then, with a feeling akin to horror, she watched as a familiar blue arm suddenly swung into the fray. Though she didn't actually see the impact, Alicia heard it and winced in sympathy as a second later Hook went flying, crashing into the floor on the other side of the room.

A large shadow fell over her and Alicia, dragging the unconscious male, hastily scrambled out of the way as two blue feet came down to hit the floor right where they had been. Unsurprisingly, the feet slipped in the puddle of thick fluid the moment they took weight and Alicia could hear mechanisms whirling and clicking furiously as they fought to counteract the unsteady movement. She held her breath, her grip tight on her patient, feeling vaguely faint as her heart thundered in her chest, the robot's stabilizing components shifting rapidly to no avail. The world seemed to slow down, sound becoming muted as seconds stretched impossibly into hours as the robot began to fall forward toward her.

_We're going to die, all three of us._ But even before she could comprehend the full ramifications of her thought, large three-fingered hands were wrapping around their very fragile bodies, hauling them out of harm's way and against bright yellow armor just as the familiar figure of Scavenger's bulky form slammed into the robot that had nearly crushed her.

Looking between the large fingers encasing her, Alicia could see Hook grappling with Starscream, the jet screaming his head off, deep gouges marring the metal skin of his head and eyes. By the way his hands were clawed and positioned, he was the source of the damage and Hook was trying to prevent further injuries since the jet appeared to be completely off his rocker, Hell-bent on gouging his eyes out.

Since she could do nothing to help Scavenger or Hook, Alicia turned her attention to her new friend, banging her hand lightly on the robot's armor until startling blue eyes focused on her. She had the vague idea that she had seen this robot before somewhere but she couldn't place him and so she let it go as something to be figured out later. "Hey! This guy's heart has stopped and his lungs are filled with fluid! We need to do something about both before he dies!"

But the robot was already moving before she had finished speaking, moving over to the room's double doors which swished open at his approach, allowing them into the larger main room of the medical facility. Alicia and her companion were set down on the familiar surface of Hook's desk, the new robot touching the unconscious male almost reverently as it laid him along the metal with obvious care, and Alicia felt her eyebrows rise into her hairline before she could stop it. Unlike Scavenger and the others who touched her as if she were made of glass, this robot demonstrated a casual familiarity with humans that said plainly it knew exactly how to handle them without fear of inadvertent damage. It was a reassuring but strangely distracting fact despite the circumstances.

As she began CPR again, she watched the yellow robot pull a large trunk out of the air and set it down near where Alicia sat, popping the lock on the storage device and pushing the lid out of the way to reveal what looked like a large three tiered tackle or craft box. Alicia stared openly but was galvanized into movement by the urgent motions of the robot, fumbling as she picked up the indicated item and followed the mimed instructions. The thin red banded cylinder was some sort of auto-injector and her clumsy fingers struggled to pry the protective cap off and reveal the needle hidden underneath. Jamming it into the meat of the boy's thigh, she hit the button to activate the injector, hearing the drug leave the container with an odd hiss that stopped once the plunger reached the bottom. There was no immediate reaction from the young male and part of Alicia despaired as the robot moved her away from the body with one hand while its other settled two fingers on the boy's chest. She couldn't be sure but Alicia was fairly certain that the robot had delivered an electrical shock if the way the body suddenly flopped was any indication. As a second and then a third shock was delivered, Alicia discovered she had hooked her fingers into the plates of the robot's fingers but instead of letting go, she only clutched harder, holding her breath, hoping that somehow against all odds..!

Even though as she had been willing the young man to respond, it still came as a surprise when it did, bolting upright, coughing and heaving and gasping as the robot supported him. Alicia let out a whoop of victory, the joyous sound quickly morphing into a cry of alarm as, on the bench nearby, Skywarp's stripped limbs began to twitch, the fingers of the dark flyer's hands flexing. The yellow robot let out a squeak of its own as it offered her a hand, cupping its other around the young man before hastily backing away from the table, Skywarp's disembodied hands rolling over, the fingers working for purchase as they pulled the arm along the smooth desk.

Now, Alicia considered herself a rational, fairly adaptable human being. She thought that she had taken it quite well when a giant robotic alien answered the newspaper ad Brian had commissioned as a joke. Finding out that the responder was a fugitive on the run from _other_ giant alien robots after that mess in Egypt? It had taken her a bit but Alicia had dealt with that, too, once she'd had the full story. Being abruptly kidnapped and taken to Mars? There should have been a God-damn **medal** for how well she adjusted to that! But watching the unattached limbs she had worked on hours ago suddenly crawl away under their own power? That… That was pushing it, even for her and Alicia gave a little scream as they fell to the floor and began inching across the metal toward the doors of the room she had just left.

Alicia sat down in the large metal hand, put her head in her hands and burst into tears as Skywarp's limbs politely knocked on the closed door of the other room where the sounds of fighting could still be clearly heard.

* * *

He couldn't find it.

Hands on his pelvic plating, Megatron again reviewed the inventory list of every known sparkling, living or dead, in the base, laboriously matching each tiny face he'd scanned to its designated number. They were all there, all accounted for, and the Decepticon leader felt frustrated irritation try to grip his spark as he finally admitted defeat and dismissed the data file from his HUD. It was entirely possible that Skywarp had simply stolen the sparkling from the Nemesis' cargo of hatchlings prior to coming to Mars but Megatron's logic circuits argued against the idea which meant that the one lodged in the Seeker's chassis had to have come from this batch even if there was nothing to indicate that any of them were missing.

Out-witted by a notorious dim-wit. Megatron was not amused but until Skywarp on-lined, the Decepticon leader had little recourse except to check the sparkling inventory and verify that they were all there as Megatron checked the status of all the viable hatchlings.

Above him, the lights flickered and Megatron frowned at them, optics spiraling down into a concentrated glare until the illumination stabilized, returning to its previous settings. After checking to ensure that no disruption to the mechanisms supporting the sparklings had occurred, the silver mech activated the door to the room and had to hastily activate a force shield to prevent the room from rapid depressurization. Megatron frowned as he considered the darkened hallway outside in annoyance then turned his attention back to the room he had emerged from, eyeing the steady overhead lights thoughtfully. The edges of his EM field continued to tingle, a silent reminder that at least in this room the electricity was still on and that the developing sparklings were safe. He actually spared a moment to silently praise the Constructicons on a job well done and getting the hatchery room successfully hooked up to the secondary generator joors ahead of the estimated schedule.

Yes, allowing them a pet was definitely a move of brilliance on his part.

_::Onslaught,:: _Megatron called, activating his internal audio. _::Exactly how many rooms are drawing power from the back-up generator besides the hatchery and Med Bay?::_

There was a pause before Onslaught answered, his response mingled with a curiously loud moo from the bovine Melosa. The Combatacon had taken over monitor duty in the security room earlier and had mentioned designing some sort of 'milking' apparatus but Megatron hadn't spared any processing power about it, too preoccupied with his excitement over a functioning Quartet under his command and solving the mystery of Skywarp's sparkling. Now the Decepticon leader wished that he had paid more attention to Onslaught's little project.

The tactician's voice was calm and collected when he answered, as if the lack of power were of no consequence. _::There are no other rooms drawing power from that generator other than Med Bay, my Lord. Hook's been too busy with Skywarp's repairs.:: _

Frag.

Megatron's optics flicked up to the gently glowing lights in the hatchery's ceiling, processor humming as it considered the evidence contradicting Onslaught's statement. _::Is it possible that the generator swap was completed but that no report was filed or that one of the others did it without Hook's knowledge?::_

_::Constructicons just confirmed it. Other repairs to the base took higher priority. The gestalt is already working on it but, if we have the right parts, they think it will be almost three joors before the main generator is working.::_

Whatever response the Decepticon leader would have said was lost as the yellow Autobot strode past the hatchery door, completely ignoring Megatron framed in the doorway. The silver mech watched him go, demeanor warring between outrage and bemusement at the blatant disregard until the darkness swallowed the brightly colored frame. It took serious bearings to do something so reckless when in the middle of enemy territory unless the mech had some sort of insurance that protected him from attack… Megatron's optics narrowed in speculation, the bright red color dimming until it had almost faded from visual detection. They had had two Autobot prisoners; if one was out then the other couldn't be far behind and as if summoned by that thought, Megatron's sensors detected the second Autobot approaching, moving in a much more cautious pattern. The Decepticon leader sent a quick command to the force shield controls then waited patiently before pouncing on the blue armored figure and dragging the overpowered form inside the room.

"If I remember correctly, your name is Jolt and you have electrical capabilities." Megatron said conversationally, keeping a tight grip on his prisoner as he flexed his claws and began using them to explore the Autobot's armor. As homicidal as his reputation may be, Megatron actually had no desire to kill the mech- certainly not considering Onslaught's report that there should be no electricity in a room that stubbornly remained powered. Whatever beneficial glitch in the grid that allowed the phenomenon could fail at any moment and Megatron fully intended to take advantage of the living generator that had just landed in his lap.

But it wouldn't do to hand his enemy so many defenseless hostages, Autobot honor or no. Ignoring Jolt's thrashing, noisy protests, Megatron found the armor catch he wanted, pried it open and tweaked the revealed wiring, instantly quieting any more objections.

When he had assured that the hatchery would continue to receive electricity, Megatron left the room and, though he commanded the force shield to remain in place, shut the chamber's doors. Now, where had that other Autobot disappeared to?

Optics cycling to zero light conditions, the Decepticon leader began issuing orders to his troops, tracking the progress of the repairs that were already being addressed. The Constructicons weren't usually so on point, though, and it was odd that they hadn't needed any prompting from him to fulfill their duties. Suspicion and paranoia stirred within Megatron's cortex like a vengeful cloud but he forced them aside, concentrating on the rhythm of his ventilation cycle until he felt calm enough to proceed without killing anyone. Punishing the very efficiency he had long sought in his soldiers would be neither productive nor helpful.

Still, there was a very thin line between being efficient and autonomous.

Megatron pinned a note to his HUD to find out who had spurred this sudden bout of activity- and watch them carefully.

But back to finding that Autobot…

_::Lord Megatron, your illustrious presence is requested in the Med Bay!:: _Hook's voice was an enraged snarl in the Decepticon leader's audio and Megatron could feel his left supraorbital ridge twitch in annoyance.

It took more effort than should have been necessary to keep his temper in check and respond with an unruffled tone of voice. _::The Autobot prisoners have escaped. One has been… subdued but the other is traipsing around freely…::_

_::I know!:: _Hook hissed. _::He's here but he's… preoccupied. The Seekers are out of their processors and Scavenger isn't enough back up to control them all!::_

_::I thought you sedated them.::_ His voice was mild and calm but Megatron was already moving in Hook's direction, his long strides covering a lot of ground with minimal effort.

_::I did sedate them! They're just-:: _Hook's indignant and hostile tirade suddenly became an audio blanking screech that forced Megatron to cut the signal in order to protect the delicate mechanisms.

The Decepticon leader was not running, not really, but he was hurryi- moving with extreme purpose and in only a klik he had successfully made it from the other side of the base to his destination. The doors opened with a quiet _swish_, permitting him entrance to the room beyond, and Megatron halted midstep, processor overheating as he took in the sight of the Autobot Bumblebee sitting on Hook's desk while on the other side of the room Scavenger sat firmly on a dazed Thundercracker's back plating. Howling, Starscream by the sound of it, was coming from the back room and it took a moment for the Decepticon leader to make any sense out of the inane raving.

"-Out! Get it out! It's hacking _meeeeeeeeeeee!_" The Seeker screamed, suddenly staggering through the double doors tearing furrows in his chassis armor with his wickedly hooked claws. "Get out, get out, get oooout!"

Megatron felt sincere, spark-deep pangs of sadness and pity for the distraught Seeker, and before he could stop it, he heard himself making soothing little ultrasonic pulses as he approached Starscream slowly. Instead of calming the other mech, however, it only appeared to startle him further and the Air Commander retreated from his advancing leader, the scratched lenses of Starscream's optics struggling to focus as he peered wildly around the room for some avenue of escape.

It was then that the Seeker's gaze locked onto the Autobot- no, on something the Autobot held- and the ensuing cacophony was bad enough to make his previous vocalizations seem pleasant in comparison. Megatron, about to capture the Seeker, had to clamp his hands over the receptor finials for the handful of nanokliks it took to cycle down his audio sensors or else risk damaging the sensitive mechanisms permanently. Starscream, true to his nature, seized upon the distraction and launched himself at the Autobot, covering the distance separating them in one jump, claws out and ready to shred the yellow armor. In a move that would have made any Decepticon proud, making almost as much noise as Starscream, Bumblebee- Megatron's processor finally found the correct designation- brought his pede up and slammed it into the Seeker's facial plates before the larger mech could connect.

_::Onslaught, Hightower Med Bay immediately.::_ Megatron ordered over the comm. as he approached the shrieking Seeker. Consulting his peripheral sensors, Megatron noted that the Constructicon medic had yet to leave the back room, a sign that did not bode well for anyone. Still, images to maintain and all that and the Decepticon leader roared out, "Hook stop laying around and get over here!"

Starscream reared back, retaliating with one massive fist swinging into the side of the Autobot's head, the Seeker's other hand wrapping around a yellow armored leg, digging into it and crushing the exposed cables, making Bumblebee scream. Shoulder assemblies whining in protest, the Air Commander used the leg as a handle to swing the Autobot off the desk and into Megatron before the Decepticon leader could dodge, the pair tumbling backwards and landing with the hunched Autobot sitting in Megatron's lap.

"You did this! You're responsible!" Starscream raged, weapons' systems powering on loudly as he advanced, armor plates clamped tight to his frame, small servos in his appendages misfiring jerkily. Fluid oozed from the ruptured lines in his chassis and in his facial plates, creating the illusion that he was mimicking what humans called 'weeping.' "This is all your fault, insect! All of it! Lowly fleshling scum! I'm going to tear you apart, _boy!_"

Boy? It was then that an alert popped up on Megatron's HUD and the former High Lord Protector felt his ventilations cease, his spark freeze in its casing briefly before his fuel pump picked up pace, making him feel overheated. Megatron's optics darted down to where the Autobot's hands lay cupped protectively, sheltering not just Alicia from the raving mech but also another very familiar human.

The Decepticon leader could feel his emotional circuits shorting out at the discovery but he could do nothing as Starscream leveled his chain gun at them and opened fire just before Thundercracker barreled into the silver Seeker, Scavenger right behind him. The shot went wide, narrowly missing them and spraying the wall above where Megatron sat.

"It hurts!" Starscream mewled piteously into the resulting silence from somewhere on the bottom of the pile of mechs. "It hurts! It hurts so badly!"

Ignoring his Air Commander, Megatron quickly dealt with the Autobot by wrapping his stronger hand around the exposed neck cabling, squeezing it tightly as his other hand pried open Bumblebee's fingers. The Decepticon leader deftly brushed Alicia away from the young male, his long spindly fingers closing around the boy-

Abruptly, Megatron found himself face down on shifting sand, his frame feeling as if it had been fed through a human car crusher or had fallen from a great height.

"Greetings, former High Lord," A voice boomed, tone amused. Before he could get up, an invisible force lifted Megatron to his pedes and the Decepticon leader stared up at the familiar elongated forms of the Original Twelve, the name of each Prime popping up on his HUD as he scanned his surroundings. "We have been looking forward to speaking with you."

* * *

Reviews are always appreciated wholeheartedly.


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